


The Children of the Stars

by AmazingGraceless



Series: The Children of the Stars Saga [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo lives!, Better Than Canon, Canon Compliant, F/M, I am not subtle, Next Generation, There are some Firefly references, lots of crossover with legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 66
Words: 93,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23311159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingGraceless/pseuds/AmazingGraceless
Summary: In 59 ABY, the galaxy has found itself divided again. An Empress of the Sith has united Sith cults, remnants of the Empire and First Order, and those dissatisfied with the New Republic.The Jedi have burned down in the Second Purge and the ashes of the Order are scattered around the galaxy. Hope lives when a Skywalker, one of the daughters of Grandmaster Rey, is discovered to be alive.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Jaina Solo/Original Male Character(s), Kyp Durron/Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Poe Dameron/Kaydel Ko Connix, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Tahiri Veila/Jacen Solo, Valin Horn/Allana Solo, Zekk/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Children of the Stars Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054718
Comments: 20
Kudos: 24





	1. The Princess Leia

Sam Tico never tired of staring into the star-speckled black of the universe. He remembered falling in love with the stars the night that his parents had taken him to an observatory, when he was five years old. His younger sister, Aya, was there and was cranky, as three-year-olds tended to be.

But he remembered his father, the great Resistance hero, putting him up on his shoulders so he could interact with the holograms within the great dome. He clapped his hands around the light, expecting to capture stars. But he never did.

He supposed that flying in them was the next best thing.

"Stargazing again, Tico?"

He turned his head to see Danni Da Dameron approach from the door with a keycard next to it and a sign proclaiming it a restricted area. She crossed her arms, more to keep herself warm than anything else, Sam speculated.

"I like seeing what new constellations we can find in the galaxy," Sam said. "It's not the same in the observatories on Chandrila."

"It isn't, is it?" Danni smiled.

The two of them stood together in silence for a moment, before Sam pierced the silence.

"I heard that the whole reason for this mission is whatever you're working on in the science wing," Sam said. "Not to patrol the border between New Republic and First Order space."

"Not First Order," Danni corrected. "Have you heard what the Empress is calling it now?"

"I don't remember," Sam admitted.

"It's the Imperial Remnant," Danni said. "Not that it makes that much of a different. Still the same imps."

"It's just hard to switch the names," Sam said. "It's all the same thing— I don't see the point in all of the name-changes and pretending that they're something that they're not."

He wasn't just talking about the Empire. He was also thinking of the Empress herself.

"Maybe it's because they have changed." Danni looked back. "For instance, the Empress hasn't attacked New Republic Space. Usually the imps are just itching for war."

"Is that why we aren't helping the Jedi?" Sam asked. That question became one of frustration for him over the past three years. "Because she isn't attacking us?"

"We've given the refugees a place to stay on Chandrila and other Core Worlds," Danni said, a firmness in her voice. "We can't just go against the Remnant without being provoked. If we maintain the terms of the Treaty of Batuu, we could keep the galaxy out of yet another war."

"I guess so." Sam couldn't help his defensive tone. "Still, I wish we could help them more. The Jedi were our friends."

Danni smiled sympathetically. "Believe me, if Dad had more sway on Mom's politics, we would be going to war for Rey's sake. But they're still scattered, and we don't have the technology yet to go against them."

Sam loved the way her eyes lit up when she said 'yet.'

He glanced back at the door. "Is that what you're working on, behind that door?"

Danni glanced up at the ceiling and subtly pointed at a holocamera. "Classified, Tico."

"Oh, right." He blushed at his own stupidity, and ran his hand through his lush curly hair. It was somehow a mix between the textures of his parents'. "What brought you out here, to this corridor?"

"I thought I'd speak with my favorite stargazing pilot," Danni said. "I found your schedule in the network, and saw that you had this hour free."

"Really?" He was never happier that his blush didn't show itself as well on his dark skin. He was grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah, sometimes I just need a break from listening to everyone complain about what went wrong, and instead just think about something else," Danni said. "Sometimes it helps me solve the problems a little better."

She glanced at the camera and leaned in to Sam, whispering directly into his ear. "We're really close to a breakthrough, and I was hoping I could get some good luck from a chat with you."

"I'm happy to serve my duty to the New Republic."

She seemed slightly unsatisfied by this answer, but still smiled, looking just like her mother, Chancellor Kaydel Ko Connix. She glanced back at the stars. "What'll you be doing, once your first tour is over?"

"I'll try to go on assignment again soon," Sam said. "Somewhere nice, like Deyer or Naboo."

"There are a lot of beaches and pretty girls on Naboo," Danni said.

"Yeah, but I would miss you." It seemed like she was fishing for that answer. "Where are you going, after this?"

"I've already been requested to go to Naboo there's an engineering convention that will be happening after the mission wraps up, and the New Republic will want for me to explain what we've been working on, since it will be de-classified by then," Danni said. "I'd love it if you could get stationed there. I feel bad that you and all of the other soldiers here have no idea what we're working on— especially when you're acting as our escort."

"In war, we've all got to play our part, for the rest of the galaxy to get out safely," Sam said.

"But we aren't at war yet," Danni reminded him softly.

"It's easy to forget when you're on a warship, for classified projects and patrolling what became enemy space," Sam said.

"I guess so," Danni mumbled. She glanced at the chrono on her wrist. "I'd better get back there. Is there any way I could get a kind of good luck token?"

Sam's heart pounded as Danni blushed.

"Like a kiss?"

He felt breathless at her request— in a good way. Like she had just given him all of the air he needed.

"I think I can manage that." He leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head at the last minute, so it was a kiss on the cheek. Before he could ask, she pointed at the viewport. He turned to see several Alderaanian starfighters and TIE fighters coming straight for the ship. Blaster bolts rained from the guns of the starfighters, and the _Princess Leia_ rocked.

In all the confusion, Sam didn't remember how he'd gotten on the ground, until Danni offered a hand to him. Without hesitation, he accepted it, and she pulled him into the forbidden door. Sirens wailed, the emergency red lights flashing in Sam's peripheral vision as the scientists ran around, trying to collect data and results.

Danni pulled out her datapad, furiously typing in commands. Sam grabbed onto a table as the _Princess Leia_ continued to pitch as it was bombarded from various sides. He was extraneous— or so he thought.

When he finally had regained his balance, Sam looked up to see Danni and a blue-skinned woman with iridescent pearl-colored hair. He recognized the feathery hairstyle, and nodded his head as formally as he could, when trying to keep his balance.

"Dr. Xux," he said, referring to the head military scientist aboard the ship.

"Tico's son, eh?" Dr. Xux looked to Danni. "At least we know we can trust him."

"What's going on?"

"Just got a message from the bridge," Dr. Xux explained. "They took out the gunners and the pods, and they're now heading toward the hangar bays."

"It's an invasion," Danni elaborated, taking care not to drop a fragile-looking disc in her hands. "They know what we've been working on— and the First Order cannot have that information. Not as they are now."

"It would prevent any chance for us to avenge the Jedi, or Rey's children," Dr. Xux added. "And I think I speak for most of the New Republic when I say we'd like for that not to happen."

"We need to get out of here," Danni said.

"How can I help?" Sam asked.

"You're my escort," Danni explained. "Dr. Xux thinks two heads are better than one, and you can help me steal a ship from those bastards and get us through the Transitory Mists."

Geography was never Sam's greatest strength— hence why he was not a pilot in the New Republic military. Even with how he loved the stars, he wasn't particularly great at navigating them. But he'd forgotten about how close the Hapes Cluster was.

"We've never gone to them before," Sam said. "They just closed their borders the night it all happened."

"The outlying planet of Silvanus will take you," Dr. Xux promised.

The _Princess Leia_ finally went still, and everyone was silent, despite the alarm still screaming.

"And you need to leave, now." Dr. Xux turned behind her. "I've got one more thing— the most important."

Danni quirked an eyebrow, Sam noticed. She stood on tip-toe to peer over his shoulder.

Dr. Xux flipped a switch, activating the hover-repulsers, causing the large silver crate to lift into the air for smoother transport.

 _What could possibly be in there?_ Sam wondered. Only one look at Danni confirmed that she had no idea, either.

His thoughts couldn't wander long, for Dr. Xux spoke again.

"Here's the remote for it." Dr. Xux placed the sleek instrument into Sam's hand, wrapping his fingers around it.

Her pearly eyes found Sam's. "This is our most important discovery. This crate cannot fall into enemy hands under any circumstances."

"I don't understand." Danni spoke the words that Sam was thinking. "I've never seen this— when did we even get this?"

Dr. Xux shook her head. "That's a question for another time. Or rather, for the scientists on Chandrila. Your mother will know what to do."

Dr. Xux then coughed. "That reminds me— the contents are dangerous. Under no circumstance are you to open it, not until you are in Republic space with your parents, or other officials. Am I understood?"

"Yes." The word was empty, a soldier's chant.

But Sam and Danni both knew that there was no time to further pry or prod or take instructions into their own hands.

"Get down to the hangar, get a ship that can take both of you, and the crate," Dr. Xux ordered. "Make sure our story reaches the New Republic, and that the First Order doesn't get our research."

"They won't," Sam promised. He glanced up, seeing the schematics in his mind. "I need a barricade. We're not leaving through the doors."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of The Children of the Stars. This story will follow several canon elements that were introduced in The Rise of Skywalker except for one major one. You know which one. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope to create the kind of saga that would follow the children of the current protagonists of the Sequel Trilogy. I hope you enjoy this experience as much as I did writing it. We’ve got a long way to go.


	2. The Hapes Cluster

"Of course it's the vents," Danni groaned. "Why is it always the vents?"

"Shh," Sam hissed. "We're getting close to the hangar. We don't want them to hear us!"

"Like they can hear anything over the sirens." He could practically hear her eyes roll.

He rolled his eyes back at her, before looking down through the slits. The new and improved chrome TIE-fighters were inside of the hangar, the stormtrooper-armored soldiers disembarking. But they were not the smiling helmets like the ones Sam's father had once worn. They had new scarlet markings in the shape that had become a cornerstone of post-Death Star Alderaanian culture— the crescent of an exploding planet.

Sam pulled out his multi-tool out of his pocket, and started on the bolts. Danni instantly reached out, grabbing the slats so that it wouldn't fall out of place until they were ready.

"We wait till they've left," he said. "Till they make their way to the bridge."

"That leaves their TIEs exposed—"

"—and we can jump in, I have one of those harnesses on my uniform—"

"—that's right, you do, for maintenance—"

"—and we can get down to safety—"

"—and escape to Silvanus!" Danni's eyes shined with excitement, like they did in the lab most of the time. "You're brilliant, Sam! I should kiss you!"

"Maybe let's save it till this is all over," Sam said, ignoring the rising heat in his cheeks. He looked down. They were almost out— the troopers, that is, although it would all most certainly lead to them being out, too.

"All right, they're gone," Danni said. She then dropped the grate with great force.

Sam pushed the crate after it, and it stopped its descent exactly two feet above the smooth durocrete floor.

Sam pocketed his multi-tool and handed her the end of the rope that came from a hidden compartment in his flightsuit. He then dropped down to the ground, landing solidly on his feet as Danni stuck the rope around a pipe.

She then started the drop down, Sam keeping a tight grip on the line, until he heard the sound of a stormtrooper's footsteps. In a lightning-fast gesture, he whirled out his standard-issue pistol, and fired— straight for the head.

Down the buckethead went.

Sam felt a surge of guilt— his father had been a stormtrooper, once. Even if the stormtroopers now willingly followed Darth Keera, weren't they still the same?

He didn't have time to think on that guilt for long, however, and heard a scream. He turned to see that he'd let go of the rope in his confusion, and Danni was plummeting.

There was no time for hesitations, for facades.

He reached a hand out, willing the molecules of air surrounding Danni to condense, to catch her. For the very nature of time to stop and bend to his will.

She was frozen, hovering about halfway from the floor to the ceiling shaft.

Before Sam could explain, there were more footsteps. Danni cried out a moment before Sam caught her again, straining to keep time itself and gravity at bay. He looked back to the open doors. There was a man in a silver and black uniform— merging the aesthetics of Alderaan and the First Order.

He felt an inexplicable drop in the temperature, as if he'd been dropped in an ice bath.

"So there is a Jedi on board," the man drawled. "My lady will be interested in this."

"Not a Jedi," Sam spat through gritted teeth as he tried to also throw up a shield between his mind and that of the definitely-Sith stranger. "Your lady stole my chance at joining the order."

The man laughed, a warm and rich sound at deep contrast to his unsettling aura, which tried to probe deeper into Sam's mind.

Focus, Tico.

He slowly lowered his hand, Danni drifting down with it at a microscopically-slow rate.

"I don't believe that for a second," the man said, his eyes an unnatural shade of blue as they locked onto Danni. "I believe the Jedi do still exist in the heart of the Republic, one last secret weapon."

"I wouldn't know," Sam confessed.

"Perhaps the lady you are escorting may have the answers I seek," the man said. "She is, after all, the Chancellor's daughter."

"Don't touch her!" His grip on the Force shattered with the emotion, and he pushed it outward, a psychic explosion with ripples into the physical, pushing the man out, briefly breaking into his mind just long enough to steal his name— Brakiss— formerly Mical Janus, an apprentice of Darth Keera.

One of many.

One who had a lightsaber.

One who Sam couldn't win against— not yet.

He darted over to Danni, helping her up before running for a TIE fighter. The floating crate followed at their heels.

Brakiss merely strode over, not bothering with running, not yet. Why waste sweat on two insects he could crush beneath his boots?

To toy with them, like a tooka cat— that was more interesting. More pleasing to the young Sith.

Sam used the Force to open the hatch to the TIE, and ushered Danni in first. He dropped the remote in, and she used it to summon the crate into the tight space. Sam pushed Brakiss over with the Force before dropping in and sealing the hatch.

"Can you fly this?" he asked as he took the second of the two seats— the gunner's seat.

"Of course," Danni scoffed. "My father's Poe Kriffing Dameron— he can fly anything!"

With that, she hit the thrust with more than was strictly necessary, nearly flattening Brakiss, zooming out into the stars.

Sam felt dread in his stomach, like the time he fell nine feet during a game of dares with the other cadets that were training on Chandrila. 

Brakiss raised a commlink to his lips, and like that, Sam knew that this wouldn't be over.

He knew just as well as Brakiss did that the man was toying with him.

"Careful, this is going to have a kick to it!"

Before Sam could ask Danni what, the small TIE went into hyperspace just long enough to end up a few meters from Silvanus’s atmosphere.

"We're coming in too hot!" Sam complained.

"That's the point," Danni explained. "We're going to get near some water, and we're going to eject!"

"That's a terrible idea," Sam cried.

"No, it covers our tracks," Danni said. "Get ready!"

Sam braced himself, waiting until the large lake of Silvanus was in sight. Then he hit the big red button he never was supposed to hit.

"See you on the other side!" Danni yelled as Sam soared out, his parachute activated immediately. As he drifted on the air, he wondered where exactly on the planet he would end up. And if the answers they sought would lay in Hapes, the only neutral party in all of this.

* * *

Sam landed in a roll in the soft lake mud, in the shallows of the feature that dominated the minor planet of Silvanus. As he struggled to free himself of the parachute, the world seemed to spin around him.

Gasping for breath, he finally managed to stand as he unclipped the last harness. The parachute sank into the lake, waterlogged entirely.

Silvanus was a beautiful world, in a melancholic sort of way, Sam decided. The tall grass, the endless water, and the woods all seemed like a childhood memory that was foreign to him.

Then it hit him.

“Danni?” He whirled around, desperately trying to find evidence that she was here, that she’d survived— she didn’t have a parachute—

“Danni?”

Just as he was about to reach out in the Force, to try and confirm or deny it, he heard her.

“I’m here!”

Floating a few inches above the water was the crate, and Danni was clinging to it, breathless. Several feet away, Sam could sense her exhaustion.

So he reached out with the Force, summoning the crate to the shore.

Danni stumbled off, grateful to take his hand.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine.” Danni dismissed his concerns with a casual gesture. “Just need a minute.”

They stood there, catching their breath for a moment.

“Lucky that the crate was there.” Danni glanced back. “There wasn’t a second parachute.”

“I’m sorry, if I’d known—“ Guilt washed over Sam.

“It’s alright.” Danni shook her head, sending her soggy light brown hair out of their final elastics, letting it tumble over her shoulders and cling to her face and neck. “I think I deserve a kiss now.”

“I’d agree.”

Before they could, an interruption came from the woods.

“Stop! In the name of the Queen Mother, put your hands where we can see them!”

They turned to see women in intricate uniforms approach, wearing night vision goggles, despite it being only a moderately cloudy day, and carrying a weapon that made Sam taste vomit in his mouth.

He’d heard about the Gun of Command. It was a weapon that the First Order— Empire— Remnant— whatever the imps called themselves, they would have done anything to have a weapon like this.

He put his hands up, and one of the soldiers lowered her guns and approached to pat down Danni first.

“No weapons on her.”

Sam knew, however, that he was a different story with his blaster.

“Hand it here.”

Sam reluctantly did so. He glanced to Danni— he’d though that they had gone to Hapes for help?

“We’re here on behalf of the New Republic.” Danni straightened her back, Sam noticed, spoke clearer, with the sort of bright-eyed gaze one associated with trailblazers like Padmé Amidala or General Organa.

“In a TIE-fighter?” One of the guards with more intricate armor stepped forward. “We do not take kindly to the Empire or their ilk here.”

“We stole it,” Sam admitted. “Our ship was attacked by them— you have to help us—“

“Please,” Danni added, interrupting Sam. “We request an audience with the Queen Mother, as we have information that might cause her to reconsider her stance in galactic politics.”

The head guard— Sam presumed she was the head guard because of the fancier armor— raised a thick auburn eyebrow.

“Let us see what is in that crate.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sam said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about that.”

“We don’t know what’s in it,” Danni admitted, looking desperately from the guards to Sam to the box and to the guards again. “We were told it was dangerous, and it shouldn’t be opened until we were in Republic space.”

“We must determine if it is a threat to the Queen Mother before we can give you an audience with her,” the head guard stated.

She nodded at two other guards. “Open the box.”

“Yes, Captain Espara,” the two women chanted as they moved to the large crate. One took the remote from Danni, and took a moment to study the controls.

Sam couldn’t help but watch. He had wanted to know what was in the crate— but what if it was explosive? What if there was some kind of failsafe that would put them all in danger, or worse, make the Hapans think that they truly had intended to harm the Queen Mother?

Sam was starting to think that fleeing to the Hapes cluster had been a truly horrible idea.

However, he couldn’t disguise his shock when the opening procedure caused the box to leak the tell-tale steam of the removal of cryogenics.

Something had been frozen in there?

A part of Sam knew what was going to happen next.

One guard lifted the lid to reveal a girl lying in the center of the box with only the white undergarments that were safe for cryogenics.

Sam knew the girl looked familiar, even as she lay there in the waking stages.

But he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The second guard helped the girl sit up, looking to her compatriots for help.

Sam watched as the blood drained out of Captain Espara’s face.

She knew the girl. He could sense that much, with the Force.

He looked to Danni.

What about this girl was dangerous enough to justify how they transported her? Why wasn’t she a passenger? Who even was she?

Then the girl opened her eyes, and Sam knew the answer to the first one.

She was incredibly Force-sensitive.

The girl looked around, saying nothing, her movements like a wild tooka cat’s.

“Take her to the medbay,” Captain Espara ordered.

The girl reluctantly let the guards help her stand up. She tried to push them away, walk on her own, only to stumble and practically fall into their arms.

“As for you two.”

Sam’s attention immediately went to Captain Espara as she stepped closer.

“You’ve won your audience with Queen Tenel Ka. Congratulations.”

Sam couldn’t help but watch as the guards ushered the girl away, and realize that he had entered something much bigger than himself.


	3. She Who Comes After

Sam had never been to Tenel Ka Chume’Dan before. Rarely did any stranger make it onto Hapes proper, much less the Royal City itself. Especially after the Second Purge three years ago.

Hapes had closed itself off to visitors after that— but it was rarely ever open to tourists and foreigners anyway. The Transitory Mists made that certain.

The landscape of Tenel Ka Chume’Dan was beautiful, with carved pillars woven with trees that looked to be crafted of silver and gold and flowers that should have been made of jewels.

Although their guard escort was quick to inform them that they did not, in fact, grow gold or jewels through their plants, despite their ridiculous wealth.

That was the strangest part about Hapes so far, Sam decided. The matriarchal society had some graces that were certainly difficult to adjust to, but he figured that letting Danni do all the talking was probably better from this point on.

No, the wealth just lying there, allowed to be weathered and eroded at for no care of the value there was distasteful to the son of the famous Rose Tico.

All his life he’d been told about his parents’ childhoods. It was never to shame him or his little sister, but to remind them that they had so much more than anyone in their family usually did.

And it was to give lessons, like how much good they could do with their new status after the war.

Seeing the Hapans use their privilege like this. . . It was beautiful but also sickening.

The speeder stopped, and the guards left first, shielding the visitors from the eyes and ears of the Hapan populace. Although that did nothing for spyware. Sam could hear the thin mechanical hums— perhaps only truly audible with the Force.

But he knew it all the same.

The sun turned the sky pink— but it was not darkening any, not truly. For even the corners of the sky that were changing to a rich deep navy were already scattered with starlight.

According to Sam’s history textbooks back at the Flight Academy, the abnormally bright cluster was the reason that the Hapans had such poor eyesight and was the origin of the famous proverb.

The Hapans may be beautiful, but they can’t see in the dark.

Sam had a feeling the literal and non-literal interpretations of that were both true.

A guard offered her hand, to help Sam out of the speeder carriage. He accepted, then adjusted the jacket he had been loaned.

Scarlet with gold shoulder pads and trimming, it resembled a military dress uniform, perhaps— but one from an older age in their galaxy.

He even was asked to apply a golden kohl-like substance around his eyes, and include two dots of it above his lips. The stylists insisted that it was modest by Hapan standards, especially for a man who would have an audience with the Queen Mother herself.

Danni, however— Danni looked beautiful, Sam decided as she fell into place beside him. Her light brown hair was in braided buns reminiscent of her mother’s and her mother’s mentor, Princess Leia.

Her gown was a shimmering golden number, sleeveless with little diamonds embedded in the bodice and in her braided hair.

“We make quite the pair, wouldn’t you say?” Danni reached for his hand, and he gripped hers nervously.

“I think so. Hopefully one of these times, we’ll get around to a kiss.”

Danni gave an unladylike snort that made one of the guards take pause.

“This is a reminder that while the Queen Mother is away on other business, several important nobles in her court are here,” the guard explained in a snooty voice. “Do try and act appropriately.”

“My apologies.” Danni straightened up and looked away from Sam.

He suspected she would have let go of his hand, but he held it tight. He needed to know that she was there, that he wouldn’t be asked to do all of this alone.

They entered a long dining room with vaulted glass ceilings, allowing the magnificent view of the star cluster to be seen as they sat down for their meal.

Danni and Sam both grew up attending dinners at Coruscant or Chandrila, or a great many of important places.

But even the glamour of Naboo was nothing compared to Hapes proper.

It was overwhelming, if Sam was being honest.

For all that their presence was required at the dinner, however, no one really spoke to the foreigners.

Instead, they listened.

While there was a few casual mentions of the Empire rearing its ugly head again under yet another new name, the reason for what should have been excitement for the nobles was brushed aside, like gossip over the latest celebrity.

Instead, rather, the subject changed quickly to the matter of the Chume’da.

“Rumor has it she’s nearly an adult,” a noblewoman drawled as she picked up her wine glass. “If she’s being hidden for her protection, she has to be presented soon. After all, how ever will she rule us if she has not ever truly danced with a Hapan?”

“Indeed,” a man in a plum-colored velvety cloak replied. “Some say that she is not Hapan at all— only a quarter at most.”

“Oh, let us all be frank— we know Kylo Ren had to be the girl’s father.”

Sam nearly did a spit-take right there.

He knew the open secret that all Jedi and friends of Rey Skywalker knew— that Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were one and the same— and that Ben Solo had miraculously survived the battle in the Second Death Star. Not that anyone knew that fact for days after.

It couldn’t be true, that the Princess of Hapes was Kylo Ren’s daughter.

Sam had met him a few times. And what he remembered of the villain that had left the everlasting scar on his father’s back was how much Ben Solo loved his wife.

He’d never have children with another. Would he?

Not to mention— almost eighteen? That would put her at the age of Ben’s second pair of twins.

Not after seven years with his wife would he betray her then.

That, Sam was sure of.

But still, the Hapans ran with it.

“They say she’s a remnant of the Queen Mother’s dark years,” the first noblewoman added, sounding slightly more tipsy from the champagne.

“The math doesn’t add up, with all due respect, Ducha Margwen,” another noblewoman pointed out. “If anything, I’d suspect the heir is adopted, and not of the Queen Mother’s own bloodline.”

There was a collective gasp around the table.

An older woman in a lovely brown silk dress reminiscent of chocolate fondue swatted the shoulder of the woman who had spoken up.

“For shame, Elora,” the older woman cried. “That is treason— no, hearsay— to doubt—“

“I am not protesting the Queen Mother’s choice, am I?” Elora raised an eyebrow. “I am merely pointing out what is fact—“

“You know that some factions would not accept an adopted heiress, and the Queen Mother knows that just as well,” Ducha Margwen reminded her. “It’s the daughter of Tenel Ka and Kylo Ren— I just know it.”

* * *

Sam’s head was still reeling when he and Danni retired to their shared chambers in the palace. They sat by the large glow lamp in the center of the balcony, letting themselves finally relax after an evening of stiff upper lips.

“I forgot that Hapans were so gossipy,” Sam confessed. “Especially about their queen.”

“It’s just their culture.” Danni shrugged. “The heir has been the only major problem in Tenel Ka Djo’s rule. She’s beloved by many— it’s just been a problem of who will carry all of that on.”

“Still, she can’t be Ben Solo’s— she can’t—“

“I know that, and you know that, and that’s all that matters.”

“You think it’s true, then?” Sam could see right through Danni’s placating words.

Danni let out a long sigh. “Let’s be honest, Sam, neither of us knew him well— I only knew he existed because you and Aya told me. My parents wanted nothing to do with him. And you only ever saw him a handful of times. It’s possible. But I don’t know.”

“I guess there are bigger questions,” Sam admitted. “Like the crate.”

“I don’t understand that,” Danni agreed as she took out her earrings. “We don’t human traffic in the New Republic. And I never knew she existed, and you know I’ve pretty much been in the labs during the entire voyage. I don’t even know where they would have picked her up.”

“It had to be during one of our pickup stops.” Sam knew there were plenty of those— and no one would think to look in the science division’s secret supplies.

“Which one?” Danni echoed Sam’s thoughts.

But the most Sam could do was shrug.

“Still, she’s powerful in the Force.” Sam looked up at the stars. “That’s got to mean something.”

* * *

The next morning, the pair was woken early by a transmission.

“The Chume’da wishes to speak to you in person,” said Captain Espara, with no formalities or other gilded speech. “She will meet you in the Jade Room for breakfast. This transmission will not be repeated to protect her safety.”

Sam and Danni quickly dressed, not bothering with the makeup, partially because there were no Hapan servants to help. And, if Sam was honest, he was certain that here was a thin line between a hot mess and what the Hapans considered to be beautiful makeup.

The breakfast room was easy to recognize because of the abnormal amount of guards just in the corridor.

While subtlety and shadows was the usual tool of a Hapan, this was a brute display of force.

Or perhaps a sign that Tenel Ka Djo could not afford to lose her daughter under any circumstances.

The door was opened for them without a word.

Inside, there were several young women around the same age, all sitting around a girl in white face makeup like the kind worn by the queens of Naboo.

“Your majesty.” Danni curtsied to that girl.

But something was off. Sam could feel it— and then he recognized one of the handmaidens.

“Allana Skywalker?”


	4. Madrassa

On a moon far from Hapes proper, the sun rose, coloring the sky like the special breed of roses that were originated here. Under the fiery sky, a procession of young Hapan women lounged in a garden dedicated to the current occupant of the Rose Palace.

In a scene similar to many that took place on Naboo almost a century earlier, all of the girls looked eerily similar to one another— and not just because of their matching gowns.

Dark hair, heart-shaped faces, pale skin, and dark eyes united the young women in their phenotypes. One would have to study their faces and body language to find the specific quirks and slight differences that were easy for close friends and family to spot, but not strangers or acquaintances.

There would be more precautions taken in the vein of Naboo royalty if they were on Hapes proper, in a more formal environment.

But because it was the Rose Palace, and it was the sort of morning where bad things didn’t happen, the girls wore no makeup, and there were differences in their jewelry.

Allana Skywalker rolled her puffy white sleeve back as she reached out for the Queen’s Heart herb that had been imported from Naboo when she’d arrived in Hapan space three years ago.

Her parents liked to grow small gardens with harvested moisture on Tatooine, and the affinity passed on to Allana. However, unlike her mother, desert roses and cacti did not interest her.

Like her father, she preferred Naboo flowers— or, if they could find them, strains that originated on Alderaan.

In other sections of the garden, the Madrassa Sun Rose was prominent, even abundant. But here, in the Chume’da’s own leisure garden, they grew what she wanted.

It was another lovely morning. And just like the ones before it, Allana tried to open the petals of the flower with the Force.

But there was nothing to reach out in, a void.

The energy was inaccessible to her now.

She supposed that she should know better. The Force had not called out to her in the three years since the Second Purge.

But all the same, it was a disappointment.

“A lovely day, isn’t it, Your Grace?”

Allana turned to see one of her handmaidens, Vanya, lying on the side of the fountain with a sculpture in the likeness of the first Queen Mother.

Another, Inanna, played a small bejeweled harp while sitting beside Vanya. Inanna stopped her playing to smile at the Princess of Hapes.

“I suppose Your Grace is missing home, once again?” Inanna asked, a sympathetic look in her eye.

Allana forced herself to smile. “We all do, Inanna.”

After all, each of these young women had left their homes around when she arrived to come to Madrassa.

“Yes, but we must be getting closer to your debut,” said Sansa, who was working on a needlepoint as she sat in the middle of a patch of Alderaanian wildflowers, looking more like a princess than Allana felt. “Surely soon we will be able to return to Tenel Ka Chume’dan, and then—“

Vasilisa let out a sigh of contentment. “Just imagine the balls—“

“The dinners!” Amalia cried, touching her stomach.

“The young lords,” Vanya said with a wicked look in her pine-green eyes.

Inanna gently smacked Vanya on the head. “You’re terrible!”

Vanya rolled her eyes. “At least I’m honest!”

“Blunt,” Sansa corrected.

“Well, I do hope for your sake that a lord or lady good enough for you is waiting at my debut ball— whenever that is.” Allana looked down at the scarlet light orange skirt of the sleeveless over-dress. “I just wish there was more I could do, for the galaxy.”

The handmaidens shifted uncomfortably.

“With all due respect, Your Grace, the loss of your powers—“

Inanna smacked Vanya again.

“Ow!” Vanya sat up, cupping her shoulder. Her eyes searched for Allana’s. “Your Grace, you must admit—“

“I do,” Allana said quietly. Her hand found the cord for her kyber necklace, and without thinking, she tugged it out for where everyone could see.

At one time, this necklace might have been the crystal for Allana’s own lightsaber, when the time came.

But after the Purge, after she was cut off from the Force— she couldn’t use it, not anymore. Not for that, at least.

Vasilisa placed a hand on Allana’s shoulder. “You are doing good for the galaxy, by acting as Hapes’s heir. When you become Queen Mother, you can take control of our military and use it against your sister.”

Allana nodded. But she didn’t voice the concern that she didn’t understand— why hadn’t Tenel Ka taken up arms against Darth Keera?

After all, Tenel Ka was good enough of a family friend to Ben and Rey to take her in and claim Allana as her own daughter. Why wouldn’t she do something about the daughter that might have killed her beloved friends?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of their tutor, Lady Serra.

The handmaidens and the princess fell into their agreed-upon and well-practiced formation. They curtsied at the same time— it was so important to their facade to stay in sync.

“Good morning, Lady Serra,” they chorused.

“Good morning, Your Highnesses,” Lady Serra replied, giving her own small curtsy. She then clasped her bangle and ring-covered hands together.“I am afraid I have no new lessons for today. Rather, I must have Allana come with me— alone.”

The other handmaidens shared nervous glances. Allana knew there was only reason she was going anywhere alone.

“Of course, Lady Serra.” Allana stepped away from the others gracefully.

“The Queen Mother would have alerted you earlier, but she did not want to disrupt your sleep cycle,” Lady Serra explained.

“That was kind of her.” The empty and yet polite things easily fell from Allana’s mouth now.

They ascended a staircase to the second floor, and walked down a corridor to a room with no windows or balconies. No point of entry for assassins or spies.

Lady Serra locked the door behind them, and Allana stood in front of the transmissions table. She pressed the button that would allow her to receive the call.

The face of Tenel Ka Djo appeared in front of Allana. Stately, with a strong jawline and thick eyebrows, some called the Queen Mother masculine. But Allana saw a lot of the beauty she recognized in her own mother in Tenel Ka.

“There has been a situation that requires your help.” Tenel Ka was as blunt as Vanya could be, straightforward and to the point. Allana appreciated that in the web of Hapan social graces.

“What’s happened?” Allana asked.

“Earlier this morning, two young soldiers in the New Republic crash-landed on Silvanus,” Tenel Ka began. “They claim that the Imperial Remnant attacked a military research vessel, and that they needed to get their research and the contents of one crate to the New Republic. They also asked for an audience with me.”

“They want us to intervene.” Allana’s heart soared at the prospect.

“Yes, but there is more.” Tenel Ka held up a finger with a plain ring— for a Hapan, anyway— a simple gold band and a brilliant green stone. “The Chume’doro opened the crate when the soldiers first landed, to check for any threats. The crate was a transportable cryogenic chamber.”

“Who was inside?” Allana’s heart pounded— and a part of her anticipated— no, hoped— for what Tenel Ka said next.

“Your twin, Nellith.”

Allana couldn’t help herself. Her jaw dropped. “I have to see her.”

Her fraternal twin had been missing since the Second Purge— they’d had to split up after Anakin died—

Allana forced herself to swallow. “And I need to see the soldiers who brought her back to me.”

“We identified them as Sam Tico and Danni Da Dameron.”

Allana’s heart beat faster. “I have to see them!”

She hadn’t seen any familiar face in years— she had to know that old friends were alright. At one time, Sam Tico might have even trained with them at the Praxeum, had the Jedi Order survived her own sister’s destruction.

“We must be careful,” Tenel Ka said, her gray eyes grave. “We are not ready yet for your debut ball. There are rumors that the faction that tried to assassinate me and my mother is gathering once more to try and destroy the Djo ‘taint’ of the royal Hapan lineage.”

“They can’t know that the Chume’da ever left Madrassa,” Allana said. “Well, that’s what the decoys are for, that’s why we stole the idea from Naboo—“

“The handmaidens will still accompany you,” Tenel Ka interrupted. “But you will be under heavy security and will arrive in the night.”

“That means we have to pack now, don’t we?”

“And prepare for your appearance with your old friends.” Allana detected a hint of a smile in Tenel Ka’s features.

“I can do that,” Allana said. She paused a moment. “Thank you.”

She meant it. Not just for the opportunity to see friends, to truly practice the decoy move.

She was grateful that the Queen Mother had given her a second life after her first one burned down.

She just wished she could stop missing it so much.


	5. The Girl in the Box

Before, there was nothing. Not even the cold penetrated her slumber. But the cold was next, not quite burning— she would not have awakened until it was bearable, that was the design of cryogenic cases.

It was like stumbling into fog, as strangers lifted her out of the box, insisting on touching her— but she couldn’t quite get the words out.

Besides, when she awoke on the strange world, surrounded by strangers, she had a feeling she should keep her mouth shut.

As she walked to the ship of the Chume’doro, the Hapan royal guards, she remembered, it had started to come back to her, why she should not speak to anyone, not if she could help it.

Luckily for her, her voice was not needed at first anyway.

The medics were not concerned with her identity when they shined flashlights in her eyes, examined her skin and hair, made her run a short pace or tested her reflexes.

All of them were sharper than she remembered.

Her limbs were ever-so-slightly longer, too, more scars accumulated on them than before she went to sleep.

Not that the medics or doctors paid much attention to those. They were faded, healed. Not their problem.

No, their job was to make sure there weren’t any negative side-effects to her time spent frozen in a box. And that was fine by her.

However, she did not appreciate what was about to come next.

A nurse, a young man in a pastel uniform, handed her a silk blue robe with detailed embroidery— plain by Hapan standards, she knew that much— and asked her to follow him down the corridor, and onto the lift.

They were leaving the part of the hospital that dealt with physical health.

Now it was time for a psychologist, an interrogator of sorts.

She supposed it was her fault. She refused to speak— because of the things that were so dearly important. But that was a worrying sign to the Hapan doctors.

After all, as the nurse explained, sometimes neurological problems could come from improper procedure, or if she was left in the ice for far too long.

Force, he sounded like Threepio, droning on and on.

And normally she _liked_ Threepio. It just wasn’t comforting to have him drone on and on, oblivious to her rising panic.

No, stay calm. She clenched her palms. She could do this— she could lie, or just answer enough to assure them that she was sane— well, sane enough to walk free.

She couldn’t reveal her name though.

No one could know that Nellith Skywalker had survived the Second Purge of the Jedi Order.

After all, she shouldn’t have survived.

* * *

The male nurse pressed a panel to open a sliding frosted duroglass door. The office was as gaudy as any ordinary Hapan’s could be.

There were jewels in the lantern on the desk, after all, and the rug was embroidered with gold thread, Nellith was certain of that.

A chair was pulled away from the desk— large and cushy, a deep plush scarlet. Nellith easily sank into the depths of the chair, holding the ends of her robe more tightly around her.

Running around in only what could be described as a bra and shorts was not exactly pleasant, after all.

She resisted the urge to pull her knees up to her chest, put her feet on the chair or on the desk itself.

Her father was always chiding that bad habit of hers.

Had her father even made it out of the Second Purge? Who died, who lived— Nellith had no idea, for any of it.

That night was chaotic, filled with screams both in the air and in the Force. Agony, flames on the sand and under her skin.

Every memory she had of that night was crystalline, perfect and clear— and sharp.

The heat of the flames made every hair stand on end, as she recalled the sensation of being surrounded by corpses and ash.

She’d hid— like a coward. She’d been afraid, she remembered. Nellith knew she couldn’t face against her sister. She hadn’t even started a formal apprenticeship!

But a true Jedi would not have done what she had, Nellith realized in shame.

Even if death was eminent, a Jedi Knight would have faced it head-on, made the sacrifice.

But oh Force, her sister. . .

How long had it been since the Second Purge? Since the flames that destroyed Tatooine? Since her friends and family all died around her, and she used their sacrifices selfishly to save herself?

Worse, how long had it been since Thea failed to come home, and a stranger in her body returned in her place?

But Nellith could not confront these questions now, for the psychologist had arrived.

“Hello,” she said, in the infuriatingly slow tone that made Nellith feel patronized. “My name is Dr. Acantha. I’m here to make sure you feel better. Let’s start by getting to know one another, okay?”

Dr. Acantha sat down behind the desk, and looked at her datapad. “Notes from your other physicians say that you haven’t spoken a word since coming out. Can you tell me your name?”

Nellith shook her head.

Dr. Acantha blinked, and Nellith could sense the psychologist’s unease. It was a few moments before she spoke again.

“Do you remember your name?”

Nellith nodded.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

Nellith hated the manipulative tone of her voice, how she tried to sound like she was the victim here.

“I’d rather not.”

Nellith was surprised at how hoarse her own voice sounded.

How long had it been since she’d used it? Vocal chord damage was not a symptom of the ice— so it must have been a long time since she’d last spoken?

Nellith coughed, and Dr. Acantha smiled patronizingly.

“Good girl. It’s alright, it’s all going to be alright.”

Then Dr. Acantha reached over the desk to touch her shoulder.

Without thinking, Nellith flinched, recoiling and squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation.

“Don’t touch me.”

That’s when she realized that she had paid for her cowardice, somehow.

Because this wasn’t her, she realized in horror. Shame colored her cheeks red.

She’d never been so sensitive as a child. In fact, she’d loved being hugged— all forms of physical affection. Only one conclusion made sense.

Something _bad_ happened to her.

She could feel that, not just in the Force, but in the goosebumps dancing across her skin, the dread gathering in the deepest fathom of her stomach, in the base of her spine.

It was completely involuntary, thoughtless.

Her body remembered more than she did.

Despite her best attempts to control it, tears seared her red cheeks, and she began to sob.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around herself tighter, trying to soak in any warmth from the thin silk of the robe.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright, you’re safe here,” Dr. Acantha crooned. She stood up from her desk and walked to right beside the chair. “You’re safer here than anywhere else. The Queen Mother has seen to it personally that you are under a trusted guard and protection. You understand that you are completely safe, right?”

Even though Tenel Ka had always been a trusted friend of their family, Nellith couldn’t help but lie when she nodded.

After all, after her sister’s betrayal, how could this galaxy ever be safe again?

And Nellith wanted to stop crying, but she couldn’t. For fear of what had happened all that time that she couldn’t remember, between the Second Purge and waking up in Hapan Space, of what she had done, all those lost years.

For fear of the friends and family scattered, so much discordance that she couldn’t sense who lived or died in the family— not that she was exactly the most powerful of all of the Jedi anyway.

For fear that her parents were dead or worse— or else, how did she end up in that box? Why didn’t they save everyone, like they’d done so many times before?

And most of all, in sorrow and grief that had just hit. She could never go home again. Never fence or spar with friends like Carren, one of her closer friends whose corpse she hid under like a coward—

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Dr. Acantha spoke as if to a wailing infant. Then she made her error. She reached out to touch Nellith.

“I said, **don’t touch me!** ”

Dr. Acantha went flying into the wall, and the frosted glass door opened. A Hapan guard, without hesitation, fired their stun weapon.

Nellith cried out at the stinging, the burn— but then all too quickly fell into nothing.


	6. Allana Skywalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On second thought, I should clarify that Tenel Ka’s backstory was written before I saw TROS and had only heard of the leaks. In this, I follow TLJ’s implied version of events with the temple burning, in that the students of Luke sided with Ben Solo and followed him into the Knights of Ren. 
> 
> In this story, Tenel Ka was one of those Knights, and she was not there for the final confrontation on Exegol. 
> 
> I hope that makes more sense!

“Sam! Danni!”

Even though Allana knew that they would be here, she couldn’t help it. Elated to see them again, she embraced them both, tears of joy on her face.

“Allana, I thought you were dead!” Sam cried as they let go.

“I went here after the Purge,” Allana explained. “I was told to go to Tenel Ka, should there ever be an emergency where I couldn’t go home. I don’t think any of us ever thought that emergency would come.”

“The Skywalkers are still alive,” Danni mused. “You could come back to the New Republic, you could convince my mother to go against the Imperial Remnant, if anyone could—“

“I’m sorry.” Allana tugged at the cord of the hidden necklace as she avoided Danni’s eyes. “I can’t. I— I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s eyes widened in horror.

“I can’t really explain it.” Allana knew she’d tried far too many times when she couldn’t sleep at night. “But I can’t access it. Not anymore.”

Most of the night of the Second Purge was a blur to Allana. But the part where she lost her powers was crystal clear.

* * *

_Despite the heat of the flames, Allana felt the chill, deep in her bones. Evil felt so cold, Allana felt as if she might die from the sensation. It burned._

_She was running, out of breath— but where she did not know._

_Only that she had to run, to flee, to get help from the New Republic—_

_Then she felt it._

_**Him**._

_It was perfect in its clarity. All of her senses sharpened just as she saw through the flames, to where Anakin, stupid brilliant Anakin, was fighting their sister._

_He’d grabbed the legacy lightsaber, she knew that much. She’d yelled at him when he returned to the hut, that they didn’t have time for this—_

_But she didn’t remember how she lost him and ended up here, running blindly._

_All she did remember was what came next._

_He’d practiced with a lightsaber only a few times, and was reckless in his feints, in his heavy-handed style. Allana felt as if she saw the opening hours before Darth Keera did._

_She tried to run through fire, only for Darth Keera to strike their brother down. Darth Keera then continued, gliding like a dark, angry ghost._

_Allana didn’t care about her burns or her aching lungs as she managed to tumble forward to Anakin._

_He coughed, still grasping the legacy saber as tightly as possible._

_“No, no—“ Allana tried to heal him with the Force— but it was no use._

_“It’s okay,” Anakin choked out. “It’s okay. Let me go, Allie. Let me go. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her—“_

_“Shh, it’s alright, you’ll be alright—“_

_But as she said it, the light faded from Anakin’s hazel eyes. Numbly, she closed the lids, and took the lightsaber from him, laying his body in the sand, now mixed with blood and ash._

_Her heart pounded in her brain as she felt the suffering. The overwhelming screaming of the dying was both in the air and in her brain—_

_She could feel it, the slashes and stabs of lightsabers, the searing of fire and yet she was fine—_

_It was too much to contain. She felt and she didn’t want to anymore, didn’t want this—_

_So she **screamed**._

_And it all ended. The world slowed, the colors dimmed, the sound of it all seemed so far away now._

_The connection, the energy— all **gone**._

_In a moment of desperation and excess, it was gone_.

* * *

“Allana?”

The princess shook her head to clear it as she returned to the present.

“My apologies,” she murmured. “I was just remembering something.”

She forced herself to smile, to focus on the joy that her friends brought her.

“I am happy to see you here— although the circumstances are less than I would like.”

“Us too,” Sam agreed.

“My informants tell me that a military vessel was attacked— I didn’t know that you went into the military,” Allana said.

“I did— I wanted to have a place in the fight against the Remnant,” Sam explained. “Even if the New Republic wasn’t getting ready for war, I knew it would come all the same.”

“Wise.” Allana nodded. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“We were drifting right past the borders of Imperial Space— it was an ambush, they dropped out of hyperspace out of nowhere,” Sam said.

“We went into the quarters of the ship where the scientific research was taking place, and we managed to get a backup of everything we’d worked on there,” Danni said, pulling the disc out of a hidden pocket in her jacket. “We need to get this disc back to New Republic space— and the girl that was in the crate, whoever she was..”

Allana blinked. “You didn’t recognize her?”

Sam frowned. “She felt familiar— wait, she wasn’t—“

“Tenel Ka recognized her as Nellith Skywalker, and so did Captain Espara the second she laid eyes on her,” Allana explained. “Ever since I’ve been adopted as the Chume’da of Hapes, she’s put out a quiet request for Hapan military and police to keep an eye out for her.”

“So that’s what happened to you.” Danni nodded in understanding. “And now we’ve found her.”

“I just didn’t recognize her.” Sam shook his head. “She felt different. But now I realize— she looks like your dad, so much.”

“I know.” A part of Allana wanted to run out of the room, demand to see her fraternal twin.

But they had work to do.

“We need to get her back to the New Republic too,” Danni added. “I don’t know how or why we had her— but she’s going to be the key to winning this war, I just know it.”

“A war that only just started,” Allana pointed out. “Well, not yet. Your mother has to get the Senate to declare war first, doesn’t she?”

“That’s why we need to get back to New Republic space as soon as possible.”

“I agree.”

Everyone turned to see the Queen Mother herself, Tenel Ka Djo, enter the room.

Everyone recited the proper greetings and bowed and curtsied before Tenel Ka could stop them.

“This is not necessary,” she said. “But you have convinced me, Dameron and Tico. I will provide an escort back to the New Republic, and alert Chancellor Connix that you are arriving. I will even ask that the Chume’da escort you personally.”

Allana was about to stammer her thanks to Tenel Ka when she recognized a certain glint in those grim gray eyes.

There were terms and conditions of some sort.

“Now, if you please, I would like to speak with my heir.”

The handmaidens, Danni, and Sam all left the room, leaving the two royal women alone.

Tenel Ka ran a hand over the table. “I want you to get an impression on whether or not the New Republic will truly decide to go to war or not. Hapes will remain neutral for the time being— especially if the New Republic chooses not to punish the Remnant for firing on a military vessel.”

“But they will— won’t they?”

“There has been far too much war in the galaxy.” Tenel Ka sighed, and despite still being as lovely as ever because of her Hapan blood, Allana could see the years on the queen’s face. After all, Allana suddenly remembered, Tenel Ka was exactly as old as her father would be now.

“And I want you to finally find closure,” Tenel Ka added. “Lady Serra has told me of how you miss Tatooine, your family. I wish just as much as you that you could go back to your old life as well. But it doesn’t do well to dwell on wishes and dreams.”

“I suppose not.”

Tenel Ka smiled. “Besides, you have not seen your sister in three years. Perhaps you will have plenty to speak about.”

“I hope so,” Allana said, looking out the window. “I hope so.”


	7. The Return of the Millennium Falcon

Before the sun could rise on Hapes, the party stole away from the palace and was transported to the royal hangar. As Allana and her handmaidens prepared to board, she couldn’t help but peek around every corner, to keep searching the hangar area for when her sister would arrive.

Meanwhile, mechanics and the like worked to make the final preparations on the _Millennium Falcon._

“It really is a heap of junk,” Danni said in a tone of wonder.

“Still flies true,” Allana said. “Chewie must be here, then.”

The familiar roar caused her to turn around and see the Wookiee descend the loading ramp of the Falcon.

“Uncle Chewie!” Allana broke free of her group to hug him. “I missed you— I can’t believe she called you here!”

Chewbacca responded in a series of growls and trills.

“I know, Nellith’s here, too.” Allana sighed contentedly. “We’re all together, for a little while.”

Chewbacca gave a questioning moan.

“I can’t stay— I have responsibilities here.” And yet a small part of her wished that were not the case. Even though she had no desire to traverse the galaxy, a part of her wanted to do something now.

But she supposed that by acting as the princess of Hapes, she was preparing for bigger things.

Never mind the thoughts of destiny, the visions that she would be a great Jedi from both of her parents. As far as Allana was concerned, it all died when the Jedi did.

She would never be the Jedi Queen in her dreams.

Still, the thought crept into her mind, as unwelcome as a brain-worm.

_What things can be bigger than destiny? Than the Throne of Balance?_

Allana shook her head, nearly sending the beads embedded into her braids in a mix of Nubian and Hapan styles onto the durocrete floor.

She couldn’t afford to think of this now.

The Force was always in motion, always changing. That meant that some visions, as tangible and certain and clear as they might seem, even for years—

It could all go up in smoke and ash in seconds.

“Hey, sis.”

Allana turned to see Nellith practically dangling out out the door frame as she swung a boot-clad foot out to the durocrete, before clicking the other heel to it together.

A big silly grin was on Nellith’s face— just like she was three years ago.

And yet, there were barely perceptible differences in her mannerisms— the slightest hesitancies.

This was all an act, for Allana’s sake. Nellith was pretending to be the same old girl who was the warm heart of the family.

“Nellith!” Allana cried all the same, grateful for the choice of knee-length dresses with leggings underneath for the space travel, as she tossed her cloak aside— Vanya was kind enough to catch it— as she ran to her sister.

Nearly knocking over her twin in the embrace, Allana was only just aware of the tears streaming down her face and Nellith’s.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

Allana and Nellith pulled away, examining each other.

“You look just like Mom, and Great-Grandma Padmé,” Nellith said. “You even have flowers in your hair.”

She plucked one of the Queen’s Herb Allana had woven into her braids, and sniffed it.

“Dad’s favorite.”

“And you’re taller than I remember,” Allana added, not wanting to remark on the more grim changes in her sister’s face and eyes. “Where have you been all these years? I’ve been trying to find you—“

Nellith stumbled back a step, her smile faltering. “I don’t know.”

Allana tilted her head to the side. “You don’t know— how?”

“It—“ Nellith reached a hand to her curly dark hair. “I don’t know. It’s a long, complicated story.”

Allana took her hands into hers. “Well, we have nothing but time.”

“I have a feeling these moon jockeys might disagree with you.” Nellith’s grin returned as she gestured at Sam and Danni.

She let go, shifting through the handmaidens before approaching Sam.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, back there on Silvanus.” She tapped her head. “Turns out an ice nap can make you just a teensy bit foggy.”

“Nothing to forgive,” Sam insisted. “I didn’t recognize you, either.”

Nellith laughed— but something about it rang hollow to Allana.

It was just like how her twin acted before— but there was more effort to it, more strain in her eyes, slower reaction time.

And Nellith hadn’t lost her connection to the Force, like Allana had.

Still, she wanted to believe in the sincerity that Nellith was trying so desperately to project.

“Hey, Uncle Chewie,” Nellith said, turning to the old Wookiee. “Need a co-pilot?”

Chewbacca growled his affirmative, and Allana let out a small sigh of relief. Allana had never really inherited the “sky” part of the Skywalker name.

While her parents insisted that she learn at least how to fly in an emergency, and how to take off and land properly, that was the extent of her knowledge. She was still incredibly nervous behind a joystick, and could not execute any of the loop-de-loops or whatever that her siblings did in Beggar’s Canyon back on Tatooine.

Instead, Allana was more like Thea, in that both were more ground children than indoor kids.

Of course, that was not the only thing that connected Allana and Thea as closer sisters.

But the point was that Allana wasn’t exactly going to the New Republic’s Flight School like Jaina did. Like where Jaina was, the night of the Second Purge.

Allana shook her head.

She couldn’t think of the family that didn’t come for her. That would take too long, too much anger and resentment for her.

There were bigger fish to fry now. Wasn’t there always a bigger fish?

“Well, then, welcome aboard the _Millennium Falcon_!” With a sweeping gesture, Nellith then followed Chewbacca into the old Corellian freighter.

Immediately, Allana was overwhelmed with the overpowering feeling of nostalgia. While she wasn’t a technological genius like Nellith, Jaina, or Anakin, she still knew every tiny light and gear and switch as intimately as she knew every flaw and imperfection of her own body.

It felt like a part of her— like the Force used to.

The handmaidens and Allana sat out in the lounging portion of the freighter, buckled in to where the dejarik board was.

“What a piece of junk,” Vasilisa cried, wrinkling her nose slightly.

Vanya tossed the cloak back at Allana.

“It’s junk, but it’s home,” Allana said, her voice airy, as if she were in a dream.

The handmaidens turned their eyes to her, horrified.

“Tenel Ka Chume’Dan is home,” Sansa reminded her.

“Hapes is your home now,” Amalia added eagerly.

“This was my old home,” Allana said, although the damage was done now. She looked to the Hapan jewels on her hands, playing with the bangles.

That would be the biggest barrier to overcome, Tenel Ka had warned back when she first took Allana on as her heir. There were several factions on Hapes who disliked Tenel Ka’s own lack of Hapan blood— even though it was half.

Allana was not one of them, and even when she became Queen Mother, they would not forgive her for that. Especially as a former Jedi.

“I’ll go check on the cockpit,” Allana decided, once they leapt into hyperspace. Never mind that they had no more seating room in there, hence the addition of seatbelt restraints to the rest of the _Falcon_.

Just as she entered, Sam, Danni, and Chewbacca were leaving. Allana brushed past, into the cockpit that was so familiar to her.

And yet so strange.

She’d forgotten so much about it. She forced her own brandy-brown eyes to memorize every detail, remember this time all the dust and dents of the Falcon.

“Hey, sis, I need to focus on flying,” Nellith said, without looking away from the blue streaks of hyperspace. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, boots left carelessly on the floor with the socks, and her fingers weren’t even touching the control panels.

“Well, your co-pilot just left.” Allana was about to sit down when she saw the strange and grim expression in her sister’s eyes, with circles under them.

“I need to be alone,” Nellith whispered.

Allana immediately understood. Nellith couldn’t maintain the mask anymore.

But understanding was not the same as liking it.

“I’m your twin, your sister,” Allana reminded her. “You can tell me anything.”

“Not if I don’t know anything.” There was a hint of Han Solo’s smirk in the weary smile Nellith gave her.

“Because of the cryogenics—“

Nellith shrugged. “Not according your doctor people. Look, I just need to figure some of this out myself, okay? I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Allana swallowed. “Okay.”

Reluctantly, she left the cockpit, and heard the door to it close behind her.

Allana had thought it would be different, if just one of her family members had come back for her.

She wandered, as lonely as a ghost, until she found the sleeping quarters of the _Falcon_. In particular, the nursery.

It had been her father’s nursery, he had told her when she was a young girl.

But it was also where Allana and Nellith first went when they were born.

Rey was on a mission with Ben, and the Jedi had been watching Jacen and Jaina and Thea back on Tatooine. It had been about the right time, but still a week or two earlier than anticipated.

So Allana and Nellith were delivered on the bed of the _Falcon_ , and their first bassinet was here.

Allana knelt down to a box beneath the crib, bolted into place, that she remembered from all of their adventures as a family, before they all grew up and started going their separate ways, before Thea became Darth Keera.

This was where Ben and Rey kept the toys for their younglings. Rey had made the majority of it, little handcarved blocks and neatly sewn falthiers.

At the bottom were two relics of her parents’ childhoods. The first doll her mother ever made, styled like a Rebel Alliance pilot. It was scraggly and rough to the touch, still dried out from the sand after all these years.

Then there was the Tooka Cat Doll, which had always been Allana’s favorite.

Worn out, it was not so plush, the bright colors faded, the buttons hanging on one thread and a prayer each.

And yet. . .

This was all that was left of her childhood.

Allana couldn’t help herself. She started to cry, and didn’t know how to stop. Or if she ever would.


	8. Hanna City

Allana Skywalker had not visited Chandrila since she was very small. That had been one of the last times she’d seen Danni Da Dameron, Finn Tico, and Aya Tico. While Sam would visit the Praxeum on Tatooine with his mother a few more times because of his burgeoning abilities, the rest of the Tico family wanted nothing to do with Ben Solo.

It hadn’t changed at all from how she remembered it. Less chaotic, not as visually distracting as Coruscant. There neat white pathways around the shining spires of the city, with several parks and floating green areas.

The mountains could be seen in the distance, snow-capped.

Her father had been born here, fifty-five years earlier. A little over half a century ago, Allana realized as she stepped off of the _Falcon_.

From behind the glass of the main building of the spaceport, Allana saw masses gathering to watch the return of Han Solo’s legendary ship.

Everyone knew it had passed to Rey Skywalker and her mysterious husband and partner, both of whom had disappeared in the Second Purge.

“I can sense their excitement,” Nellith said, eyes closed. Her face then fell. “But they see us— we aren’t who they wanted to see.”

“Mom and Dad.” Allana exhaled the words, as light as the frost on Madrassa on an autumnal morning.

Nellith then shrugged, a sly smile creeping up her face. “Don’t worry— we are the answer they’ve been waiting for.”

It reminded Allana of how Rey had spoken of her destiny.

_“I’ve seen it,” Rey whispered as she tucked the girl into bed. “Solid and clear. You, much older, mind you, sitting on a throne. It’s ancient— like nothing I’ve ever seen. There’s light, and darkness there. But more important— a balance. An answer to all that’s wrong in this galaxy. You’ll bring peace, Allana.”_

She’d adored the idea of destiny, that she was special as a child. That as a middle child, she still had an important place in her family.

The Skywalker burden could be terrible— after all, that was all they had. Rey never spoke about her family, or where she had come from, beyond Jakku.

It was lessened, that burden, to know that she had a good, certain destiny that would bring something the stars longed for.

But she wondered if her mother’s visions perhaps had only been dreams. The dreams any mother would have for her Jedi children, Allana supposed.

And yet, as she straightened her posture and fastened her cloak, she couldn’t help but think that her mother had never shared those sorts of dreams for her twin sister.

New Republic military marched out of the spaceport to approach the _Falcon_. Holding stun-staffs and pistols at their belts, they were ready for an ambush. A necessity with the new information.

The soldiers stopped and parted as Rose Tico, the shortest woman Allana had ever laid eyes on, ran.

“Sam!”

“Mom!”

Sam dropped his bag and stretched his arms wide to embrace his mother. The full impact of Rose nearly knocked them both to the ground.

“I was so worried when the Princess Leia’s distress signal went down— I thought you—“ Rose was crying as she touched her son’s cheek. “I’m just so happy that you’re okay.”

Sam touched the medallion, and peeked over his mother’s shoulder as Finn approached. “Dad.”

Finn smiled. “You did good. You were brave out there, in Hapan space. I’m sure the New Republic can arrange for a vacation on a planet like Naboo or Deyer—“

Sam shook his head. “Not now. The time for that is over.”

Finn nodded, his expression more suitably grim. “It’s about time we stood against the Remnant.”

He then placed a hand on Danni’s shoulder. “Dr. Xux managed to send out the distress signal. She said you brought a crate and the backups to your research—“

“Right here.” Danni pulled out the disc, turning to Rose. “Dr. Tico, I’ve got every bit of data we had.”

Rose nodded. “It’s good to hear. But where’s the crate? Dr. Xux said it was very important—“

“Hi.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Nellith and Allana. Nellith gave a tiny wave. Allana merely stood at attention, eyes bright and expression pleasant, yet neutral, just as she’d been taught.

“Allana! Nellith!” Rose grinned, staring up at them. “You’ve gotten so tall— and—“

“We thought you were dead,” Finn interrupted. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “Both of you— we couldn’t feel you in the Force anymore.”

Allana blushed. “Yeah, about that— we can talk later—“

“Yes, of course we can!” Rose managed her way in between the two of them, and placed her hands on their shoulders. “We’ll have plenty more to talk about at dinner tonight!”

“Dinner?” Nellith quirked an eyebrow.

“The situation isn’t as simple as telling the Senate about why we lost contact with the _Princess Leia_ ,” Finn explained as they headed back towards the spaceport. “Danni, your mother saw your transmission and she believes you and wants to help— but the Senate still might not agree.”

“Why not?” Sam demanded.

“It’s complicated,” Rose said. “We need to decide how we’re going to proceed from here on out— oh, by the way, you should send a comm to Aya.”

“To Aya? Why?” Sam asked. “Where is she?”

“She’s still working on her dig site on Korriban,” Finn assured him. “We haven’t told her what happened— didn’t want to worry her yet.”

Sam sighed. “I’ll get on that.”

“We really are glad all of us are together again, right, Chewy?” Rose beamed at the Wookiee. “And Allana, you’ll have to introduce me to the handmaidens— oh, we’ll have such a fun time!”

Allana nodded a reluctant agreement.

It wasn’t the Force, but merely instinct, intuition, that caused her to look to Nellith.

There was a blank and foggy sort of look on her sister’s face as she stared out on the cityscape.

“Nell?”

Her sister blinked and shook her hair. And the look was gone.

But Allana couldn’t dismiss her suspicion that something was not right with her sister.

After all, where had she been, all those years? What happened to her?

As Nellith took off her leather jacket, Allana gaped at the scars.

What had Nellith done?


	9. The Broadcast

It had been such a long time since Nellith had dined in a fancy establishment like the one she was in right now. It was the exact place a politician frequented, with tables set far enough apart that one could not listen in to other conversations— at least, not without the Force or some dedicated spyware.

While occasionally Thea’s events as she rose in the ranks of reclaiming her Alderaanian throne meant that they did go to nice places and learn the etiquette, Nellith never favored that side of her heritage.

She was Rey Skywalker’s daughter, and Han Solo’s granddaughter.

Messy eating habits, boots up on the dash or the table were her thing. Not the dresses and the slippery silver words.

But she didn’t need to worry about her eating skills being up to scratch. She had much bigger problems than what spoon to use.

She couldn’t eat. Her stomach felt as if it were tied into knots, every nerve on fire. The Force was screaming, it felt like. But Nellith couldn’t figure out why.

“The problem is, the galaxy has been at war for the majority of the people’s lives,” Chancellor Kaydel Ko Connix explained once the first appetizer round of soups were delivered. “They will do anything to negotiate or to try and find a non-violent solution. The people want nothing to do with war anymore, and will not stand for it.”

“The Remnant can’t be reasoned with,” Sam cried. “We saw them, the Sith—“

“He’s right,” Allana added, articulate as ever. “My sister, while she is using the Alderaanian tradition of pacifism to her advantage, she is not going to maintain that policy for very long. She wants power— that’s what all Sith want. And she’ll do anything to get her hands on it.”

Allana and Thea had always sounded alike, with their princess-y destinies and interests in politics.

But the royal vocabulary and speech sent chills down Allana’s spine. Made her want to bolt from her chair, made her blood run cold.

A vague sensation of a gloved hand stroking her cheek, just to prove it could, against her will, without any affection or emotion washed over Nellith.

She forced herself to drink some of the wine. It wasn’t Corellian whiskey— Jacen and Jaina dared her to drink it the day they turned sixteen— but it would do. Nellith wistfully wondered if Dialaman Blue would enhance the flavor.

It was some bottle from Naboo or some other sufficiently rich planet.

 _How boring_ , Nellith couldn’t help but think.

“We know that,” Connix assured them. “But the Senate does not. We need to make a plan— how to prove to them that this is worth going to war over.”

“I’d think the Jedi would be enough,” Sam muttered. “It’s genocide.”

“Against an old religion?” Poe Dameron asked. For all he’d known Rey, he really didn’t understand her, or the Force, or the Jedi at all. Even though the very history of the Jedi had been in his backyard as a child.

It was baffling to Nellith.

“Against a people,” Allana explained. “Force-sensitives. In many places in the galaxy, those who can manipulate the Force are discriminated against. Shunned, or worse, for their abilities. While some backwater savage places always had these attitudes, the Jedi became persecuted and oppressed after Order 66. They never bounced back.”

“To be fair, with all the dark-siders, they don’t really help their reputation.” Poe laughed.

Nellith gripped the bottom of her chair. She understood perfectly now why she never saw “Uncle Poe” all that often.

A crack formed in his wine glass.

“That’s funny,” Poe muttered, signaling a waiter.

Nellith frowned. Had she done that?

She could feel Allana’s eyes on her, asking the same question.

She forced herself to take another sip. Stars, it tasted like sand. How did Jaina drink it like it was nothing?

“The biggest help would be if one of you two would testify for the Senate,” Connix finally said, looking to Allana and Nellith. “A Skywalker’s word wouldn’t be forgotten. Especially with all of the heroes the Republic still honors.”

“I can’t,” Allana said. “My job was to escort Nellith, Danni, and Sam home, and I’ve done that. I have responsibilities on Hapes, I’m needed there. I can’t stay for much longer.”

Chancellor Connix nodded, accepting the excuse. Then all eyes came to Nellith.

_Where to even begin?_

“Well—“ Nellith stammered, gripping her chair as the Force grew louder, practically screaming in her blood— “I—“

She never got the chance to say anything. Because then it happened.

Every holoscreen in the restaurant, in the city, in the main channels in New Republic Space turned to a broadcast.

It was in a floating city— but not on New Alderaan, like Nellith thought it might. It was a different planet.

But the Empress, Darth Keera, leered at the New Republic with yellow eyes. And yet she was beautiful and terrible, sending shivers down Nellith’s spine. All her scars ached, and she was shaking, she realized.

“The Imperial Remnant and her Queen has a message for Chancellor Connix and the New Republic,” Darth Keera began. “I know that Kylo Ren lives.”

Gasps could be heard across the restaurant— even from Allana.

Nellith felt numb, the edges of her vision going dark, her world becoming the screen in front of her.

Their father’s survival and resurrection— that was a secret they were supposed to take to their graves. What he once was had died on Endor.

And now the whole galaxy knew.

“I have his son, the Jedi Knight Jacen Skywalker hostage.”

Nellith’s jaw dropped as a holo of her brother, a mug shot taken when the Remnant detained him, appeared on the screen.

They would now know exactly what the Skywalkers were. The children of a monster.

And Jacen—

Jacen was alive. _Could Jaina and Rey and Ben be, too—_

“I have an ultimatum, for Kylo Ren.” Darth Keera folded her hands. “He has seventy-two standard hours to show himself, and I will release Skywalker as a free man. If not, however, an execution will take place instead. It’s your choice, Ren.”

And yet the holo itself stayed static, Darth Keera’s manic face there, symbols flashing over.

Nellith felt drawn to it, felt herself becoming tired. She was supposed to find a message, was supposed to report somewhere—

“Aquilae,” she whispered as she stood, as the rest of her table did. Whispers filled the room as the patrons took a closer look at the Chancellor’s dinner guests.

They knew who Nellith and Allana Skywalker were.

But did Nellith even know who Nellith was?

She had to get closer to the screen, for she was drawn to it, almost hypnotically, had to get closer. To answers, to truth, to the message.

She reached her fingers to touch when—

She was pulled out of the trance as two men wrestled her arms behind her back.

She tried to push them away in the Force, to kick, but these men were Force-sensitive, and were able to push back.

She physically kicked, trying to get leverage, and tried to reach her fingers, to pinch, to grip—

But they kept a strong hold on her, quickly pulling her out as the patrons watched.

As soon as the dining room doors closed behind them and the men carried her into an offshoot hallway, she kicked on the corner of the wall. It was enough momentum for her to jerk her elbow back, hitting one of her captors in the gut.

Down he went, she could sense, so she turned her attention to her other attacker, and aimed a punch that hit him in the throat.

He let go, and without even thinking, she kicked her other captor as he tried to rise back up. The first captor grabbed her again, pinning her against the wall.

“Get the cuffs, Kyp,” the captor said in a hoarse voice. “She’s not going to trick Allana like she did Jacen.”

“Trick? Jacen?” Nellith stamped on the captor’s foot, and pushed him away with the Force, and whirled around to face them.

“Kyp? Valin?”

“Nice try,” Valin said, drawing his lightsaber. “You’re not faking your way out of this that easy.”

“What are you talking about?” Nellith looked to Kyp— she’d fancied the older student, and he’d been nice to her at the Praxeum. “Kyp, please—“

She froze, realizing how close the tip of Valin’s silver blade was to her own exposed throat.

“You’re the reason Jacen’s in this mess— we can’t have you taking the galaxy’s last hope with it,” Valin snarled. “You’ll pay for what you did—“

“I don’t understand— what happened to Jacen? How did my sister end up capturing him—“

“Look, Sith, this is cute and all—“

“Valin, stop.” Kyp’s voice was hard as his dark green eyes met Nellith’s Skywalker blue ones. “She doesn’t know what you’re talking about, I can feel it.”

“How do we know that isn’t a trick either—“

“We couldn’t feel her before.” Kyp’s voice was almost patronizing. He looked back to Nellith. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.” A note of frustration rose in Nellith’s voice. “I woke two standard days ago on Silvanus, I’d been in some cryogenic box, and they opened me. I don’t remember anything since Tatooine, since Keera came.”

“Since the Second Purge.” Kyp let out a low whistle. “Kid, you missed a lot.”

“Apparently.” Nellith looked to Valin. “I really don’t remember— I know something bad happened to me, over the past three years.”

Valin snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“Do you know what happened?” Nellith’s eyes were wide, wild.

“Parts of it,” Kyp said. “I don’t think anyone knows the full story. But we can put enough together.”

“Then tell me.”


	10. Tahiri Veila’s Request

The party stood about in the back-corridor as Poe Dameron furiously commed at the pilot and security for his wife’s speeder to extract them as quickly as possible.

“Jacen’s alive,” Allana whispered to herself— she couldn’t help the smile. But it faded when the next thought came to her lips. “Dad’s alive.”

Why didn’t that make her feel better?

“I never thought the day would come when we would try to save Kylo Ren,” Finn muttered. “Even after Exogol.”

“She spilled the secret.”

Everyone looked back at Sam. Allana frowned. “What secret— wait.”

It was easy to forget, because it wasn’t really a secret, not among those who had close dealings with the Jedi. All of the Praxeum knew and made their peace with who Ben Solo was.

But this changed everything, Allana realized. She’d known what her father was. Her parents never exactly tried to hide or sugarcoat it. After all, her father had told them about how he didn’t know about Vader being his grandfather until he was in his twenties and how horrific that was.

Allana now recalled a detail that had never stuck out to her before. How her father would look at her mother when he said that. A sort of pointed glance.

Did her mother’s family, the one she never spoke of, have their own skeletons, their own Vaders?

Allana supposed that she didn’t want to know, not with what was going to come. It was only on Hapes that she’d ever had to contend with the legacy of darkness her father once carried out.

She did know the rumors, for her handmaidens were the first to bring them up. She knew that most of Hapan space believed she was Kylo Ren’s bastard daughter with Tenel Ka.

Not that she really interacted with any other Hapans.

But this meant that she would have the sins of her father foisted upon her. So would Jacen, so would Jaina, if she was still alive, so would Nellith—

“Wait, where’s Nellith?” Allana asked aloud.

Right at that moment, Nellith came stumbling in, her eyes wide and an exhausted demeanor about her. Behind her were two people that Allana had not seen since before the Second Purge.

Kyp Durron, the rogue-ish Jedi that nearly every younger male-attracted Jedi fancied. Not that Allana ever understood that. He was too quippy, cocky, wild.

Then there was Valin Horn. Her best friend, Jysella’s, older brother. Jacen’s best friend. An upstanding sort of Jedi, the one that she’d had a crush on for as long as she remembered. Even though she once angsted over how he would never see her as more than her brother’s little sister or his little sister’s best friend.

“Valin— Kyp— it’s good to see you.” Allana internally winced at her stammering. She tried to retreat into the Chume’da personality she’d cultivated for herself. “I’m glad to see that you’ve escorted my sister out safely.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Kyp muttered.

“Allana Skywalker, that is you, isn’t it?” Valin’s hazel eyes shone brightly. “I wouldn’t have recognized you if our intel hadn’t told us that you became a princess.”

“Oh, well—“ Allana blushed, clutching fistfuls of her skirts. She could hear her handmaidens giving twittering giggles behind her— especially Vanya.

Kyp then elbowed Valin in the ribs. Valin hissed a curse, before forcing a smile again.

“That reminds me— there’s someone who wants to see you— if I may?” He extended his hand to her.

Allana was reminded of all of her childish fantasies of a dance on Coruscant under the starlight with him.

Focus.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised her ladies-in-waiting. She then took his hand, her heart soaring. “Is it Jysella? I’ve missed her terribly—“

“Not Jysella, I’m afraid,” Valin said. “Although she did survive— thanks to Mom, all of us did— but it’s someone else.”

He turned a corner, and then opened the door to the lift.

“After you, Your Grace.”

Allana nodded, smiling graciously as she entered the lift.

Valin then pressed a button for the down elevator.

“Why did Nellith take so long to get down where the rest of us were?” Allana asked.

Valin’s polite and charming demeanor faltered at that question. “It’s a long story,” he finally said.

Allana knew he was dodging the question. But before she could employ any one of the many Hapan conversational tactics she’d been taught by Lady Serra, the lift doors opened.

Valin smiled. “I’ll be right here when you’re done. At the end of the hall, you’ll see her.”

Without another word, he closed the lift.

Confused, Allana stepped slowly down the corridor. Then she saw her, standing with her back to the lift. Allana would recognize those bare feet and curly blonde hair anywhere.

“Tahiri?”

“Allana.” Tahiri turned around, and Allana struggled to maintain her polite and neutral expression. Three thin lightsaber scars were traced over her forehead.

“Did Thea do that?” Allana asked.

“Not her, but one of your sisters did,” Tahiri said. “We need to talk.”

“Clearly.”

“I’m assuming you saw the broadcast?”

“How could I not? It was on everywhere, I think.”

“Well, first thing’s first— a lot of the Jedi survived the Second Purge,” Tahiri began. “We’ve been in the underbelly of Coruscant. But we received intel that you were coming here, could sense it. And we had to see you.”

“Why me? Didn’t Jacen survive—“

“He did, and you know he’s been captured,” Tahiri reminded her. “He did lead us, for a while. That is, until— that reminds me, don’t trust Nellith, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I trust her?” Allana crossed her arms over her chest.

“Surely you’ve noticed that she’s acting strange, for her.”

“I assume waking up from a cryogenic box with no memory would do that to anyone.”

“Well, there’s a reason Kyp and Valin briefly apprehended her,” Tahiri said. “Nellith appeared out of nowhere before. She came to us claiming she needed help, that she was ready to help us save the galaxy. She said that Jacen had to go alone with her. Next thing we knew, files from the Remnant revealed he’d been detained and processes.”

“That doesn’t make it her fault.” Allana raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve encountered her other places around the galaxy,” Tahiri added. “She never seemed to recognize that, after tricking Jacen. She tried to kill us, several times. And she did at least recall fighting styles, weaknesses—“

“Then she wasn’t herself,” Allana insisted.

“Most likely not, but I guarantee some of whatever happened to her is still waiting under the surface,” Tahiri agreed. She then took Allana’s hand. “But that’s why we need you. Jacen, he said that Master Skywalker had visions for you, of your place in bringing peace—“

Allana shook her head. “No, I’ve got to go back to Hapes—“

“Allana, you’re our last hope,” Tahiri said. “You’re the last Skywalker that we know can save us.”

Allana shook her head, and stepped back, forcing Tahiri to let go of her. “I can’t save anyone, not now. Tahiri, I lost my powers. Ever since that night, I cannot connect to it.”

Tahiri frowned. “I’ll have to ask Tash or Seff or Tionne about that. That’s. . . That’s very strange. I’ve never heard of that happening before. But you can still help us— if the galaxy knows that one Skywalker lives—“

“I have a duty to Hapes now.” Allana’s voice was firm. But then, she remembered something. A critical bit of information that had been lost in the chaos of the Second Purge.

She hadn’t used it then, because Thea knew it, too. But it was worth a try, now.

“I know where Dad might be. He once said that if an emergency were to happen, we were to meet at Ach-To.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Tahiri shook her head. “It’s brilliant— but you should come with us, since we don’t know what Nellith will do or—“

As she started to ramble on, Allana’s heart pounded in her chest. Could she do this? Could she disobey Tenel Ka and go to find her father?

She stood up straighter, resolute. “I’m coming.”


	11. Party Selection

Allana Skywalker returned to the corridor where the others were waiting.

“Some things have changed.” Allana was used to speaking cryptically, in case of hidden cameras. Tenel Ka had taught her that eyes would be on her in every moment— even if she couldn’t see them. “I have a new mission. To Ahch-To.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Ahch-To? There’s nothing left there besides a bunch of huts and old rocks. Rey took all the texts with her to the Praxeum.”

Allana shook her head. “When I was a little girl, I was told that if the family ever got separated to go to Ahch-To.”

Nellith frowned. “Why didn’t we go there after the Second Purge, then?”

“I didn’t then, because I knew Thea knew about Ahch-To,” Allana confessed. “She might still. But it’s at least worth a try.”

“Of course,” Rose said, eyes shining brightly. “You think we can find Ben Solo there, don’t you?”

Poe shifted uncomfortably. “It’d be a lot better if we could find Rey—“

“Well, my mother isn’t here and hasn’t shown up for three years,” Allana snapped. “If we can find him, my father will have to do.”

Nellith gave her an uneasy look. Allana forced herself to look past, to stand in that way Lady Serra taught her, to look regal and Hapan—

“I can’t go with you,” Danni finally said, shattering the silence. “I need to work with the science division on recovering the contents of the hard drive. There’s a few projects in there that we need to start, too.”

“Neither can I.” Sam avoided Allana’s eyes. “Aunt Kaydel needs me for testimony at the Senate.”

“That’s alright, you’ve been though enough.” Allana smiled encouragingly.

“We’ll follow you anywhere,” Valin promised. “We know Tahiri’s coming with us, anyway—“

“We Jedi need to stick together anyway,” Kyp lightly jabbed his elbow at Valin.

“Ow, yeah, sure, whatever,” Valin groaned.

“We have jobs to do here, so you’re on your own, I’m afraid,” Finn said. “We need to convince the Senate that this is worth fighting for.”

“That’s alright,” Allana assured him. “We have all that we need.”

“Err— what about me?”

All eyes fell to Nellith.

With the new information, Allana’s stomach churned at the sight of her twin. Was Nellith truly on their side? Or did whatever Darth Keera did to her still linger underneath, waiting to be awakened?

“What do you mean?” Allana asked.

“Aren’t I coming?” Nellith raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a better idea to stay here in Chandrila, maybe with some doctors that can help you remember—“

“He’s my father too.” Nellith crossed her arms over her chest. “And I still have my powers. I can help you, just as much as the other Jedi can.”

“Problem is, you’re a flight risk,” Valin reminded her.

“Wait, what?” Poe looked rather lost at the Jedi’s quips.

“Apparently I was up to some dark side activities during the period I can’t remember,” Nellith explained. “I mean, technically, we don’t know if it was a clone or something else— but it sounds like Darth Keera got me and used me as some kind of sleeper agent.”

Everyone took a step away from her.

“Really?” Nellith’s crossed arms started to look less like a defensive measure, and more like she was trying to give herself a hug. “I don’t remember it— and I want to find Dad just as much as anyone else. Plus, maybe he could help me, if Thea still has a grip on me?”

“He could.” Allana had to concede that point.

“Besides, if I did do all of it myself— I’m still holding onto my evil clone theory, by the way— how else can I redeem myself?” Nellith pointed out. “And isn’t it safer for me to be with Jedi, who can make sure I can’t hurt anyone?”

“With that logic, we could send you back to Coruscant,” Valin said.

“It’s your choice,” Tahiri finally said. “You’re the one that’s supposed to be a Jedi Queen. You hold the power.”

“Then my sister goes with us.”

At the end of the day, the trust was instinctual, like trusting her own body.

“Thank you.” Nellith’s eyes were wide, her expression solemn and sincere. “I’ll prove it to you— I promise.”

Allana just smiled and nodded.

That was when Vasilisa tugged at Allana’s sleeve.

“Your Grace, I do not wish to interrupt on Jedi business, but I’m afraid that there is one matter that we are overlooking—“

“We’ll discuss it when we reach our lodgings,” Allana promised.

“Speaking of which, the speeder’s outside, and he doesn’t want to wait too long,” Poe said.

“Come on,” Kaydel said, smiling affectionately at her husband. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

It was when they sat in the main living room of the Chancellor’s home when the handmaidens and Allana finally talked about the issue that Allana knew concerned them all.

“The Queen Mother is sending a transport tomorrow since I reported that we did deliver the New Republic soldiers home,” Vasilisa explained. “She expects you to come back to Madrassa right away.”

Allana shook her head. “No, not now, not when I’m so close to finding the rest of my family. This is the one thing I’ve wanted all this time—“

“We know,” Vanya said, a sympathetic look on her face. “That’s why we’re going to figure it out, aren’t we, girls?”

“Figure out what?” Amalia was the one to voice what everyone was thinking.

“Our decoy maneuver!” Vanya cried. “We’ve been training with it all this time— we finally can put it into action!”

“Who’s meeting us on the transport?” Allana asked. Because with the Force, they couldn’t fool Tenel Ka.

“Not even Lady Serra will be meeting us there, just members of the Chume’doro,” Vasilisa said.

Allana could feel a buzzing excitement about her handmaidens. “This could be a viable plan, ladies. I can use the Amelia disguise while seeing you off— the Chume’doro don’t know that she isn’t a real handmaiden.”

“The question is, who is our best bet for your replacement, Your Grace?” Inanna asked.

“Sansa.” Allana knew it without a shadow of a doubt. “You have the closest facial structure to mine, and you’ve got my exact eye color. A little makeup can trick the eye, and we can dye your hair a little darker to get it exact.”

“Are you sure, Your Grace?” Sansa gripped the edges of the ottoman that she sat on nervously.

“You and Vanya were always the best at it, but I think we’d miss Vanya’s colorful personality,” Allana said. “I know you can do this. We’ve spent the past three years practicing this— and what if we can pull it off?”

“We have fooled Lady Serra before,” Inanna reminded them. “She mixes us up constantly!”

“Exactly!” Allana felt a smirk she’d inherited from Han Solo creeping up her face. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan! Let’s get to work, ladies. Morning rises soon.”


	12. The Last Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upon reading the reference to Palpatine’s return in this chapter, I’d like to mention that I didn’t know about the clone thing for sure when I wrote it. I just guessed from how Legends handled Palpatine’s return.

The Hapan shuttle, the _Coral Wyvern_ , arrived just before the sunrise on Chandrila. The sky was a deep indigo that matched the cloaks of the handmaidens as they boarded the ships.

Vasilisa stopped, explaining to a member of the Chume’doro that one handmaiden would be staying behind, at the behest of the Chume’da.

Allana focused on keeping her face pleasantly neutral as Vasilisa and the guard exchanged whispers. Finally, the guard shrugged and nodded at Allana.

Vasilisa turned and embraced her princess. “Good luck, Amelia. The Chume’da eagerly anticipates reports of your progress.”

“I cannot wait to report back to her and join you all again soon.” There was an unspoken promise in the exchange.

Soon we will be together again and we will all be happy.

Perhaps it was a naive promise, more an optimistic wish with no chance of coming true.

But as Allana stepped back, to allow room for the _Coral Wyvern_ to take off, she couldn’t help but believe it. She had to. They would fix everything, surely.

That was what fathers and mothers did, didn’t they?

She held a fistful of her velvety cloak, watching as the stars lingered in the approaching daylight. For a moment, it was beautiful.

Then the spell was broken. The princess had work to do. She turned to where the _Falcon_ was parked. Outside, Nellith stood, watching. Allana’s heart ached at the sight of her.

Nellith was wearing a mix of clothes from various sources. A Hapan summer dress with a knee-length hem, a jacket donated graciously by Sam that was too small. Boots and a scarf that once belonged to Aya Tico, and leggings that Rose had been meaning to return but had never gotten around to.

Then there was her hair. Styled in the three buns that their mother wore in the old holos— even though it was always half-up, half-down as long as Allana could remember.

With all of the flyaway hairs and the ragged, cobbled-together look, Allana could see her mother standing there in Nellith’s shadow. A much younger Rey Skywalker, lost and aimless, waiting for a family that would not come back.

_But they will come back._

Allana had to believe that. And yet, as she took in her fraternal twin, she couldn’t help but wonder who people saw in her.

Her father, the once-wicked Kylo Ren? Her mother, the Last Jedi? Or perhaps the likes of Luke Skywalker, the greatest hope the galaxy once held? Or even, if you squinted, the great queen Padme Amidala?

Despite the old holos that Allana often admired and placed on her vanity for fashion inspiration, she thought that last one was perhaps a stretch.

Padmé Amidala led a revolution at the age of fourteen.

When Allana was fourteen, all she could do was run.

“Hey, sis, gonna stop gazing at the stars or what?”

“Sorry.” Allana shook her head in that trained careful way, to prevent hairpins or a curly lock from falling out of her intricate hairstyle. “I was just thinking about some things.”

“Things— very queenly,” Nellith teased.

“Shut up.” Allana smiled as she said it.

“After you.” Nellith made a very elaborate and over-the-top bow and gesture to accompany it. “Your Grace.”

Allana rolled her eyes and entered the Millennium Falcon.

She entered the cockpit, where Valin and Tahiri were already seated.

“Oh, sorry, Your Grace,” Valin said, quickly standing up. “You should take it—“

“Thank you.” Allana gracefully sat down. “Where’s Kyp and Chewie and the droids?”

“Artoo is helping Chewie fix some things in the cargo hold,” Tahiri explained. “Threepio’s annoying Kyp up in the gunner’s turret.”

“They deserve each other,” Allana declared.

Valin snorted in response, before straightening up. “I should probably check on them.”

With that, he left as Chewie and Nellith entered.

Nellith grinned as she fastened her harness and started up the Falcon’s flight sequence.

“This is your captain speaking— this is gonna be a crazy ride.”

And before Allana knew it, they shot off into the stars.

* * *

“Perfect Sabaac.” Valin threw down his cards, hazel eyes gleaming. “Your move, Princess.”

Allana raised an eyebrow as she examined her cards again. “Too bad an Idiot’s Array beats a Perfect Sabaac.”

“And she wins again.” Valin groaned— but in a playful way, like he didn’t really mind.

“I hope you’re not letting me, because I can hold my own just fine,” Allana said as she shuffled the deck.

“I promise, I would not go easy on Jacen Solo’s little sister.” He gave her a look of admiration. “You play a mean game. Bet you’re not so good with pazaak.”

Allana smiled and shook her head. “You forget that I’m Han Solo’s granddaughter. I know how to play every game used for gambling in cantinas on the Outer Rim. And how to cheat at them, if I’m desperate.”

“A smuggler, a princess, a Jedi, a Sith— what a pedigree,” Valin muttered, leaning back in the dejarik booth.

“Not a Sith.”

“What?”

“Dad was on the dark side, but technically he was never a Sith, that was different.” Allana stowed the sabaac cards beneath the table in the hidden cards, exchanging them for the pazaak deck. “I mean, I guess you could count that time that he allied with some Palpatine clone, but he was never truly a Sith. Merely dark.”

“Not that that’s better.”

“Well.” Allana huffed as she shuffled the pazaak deck. “You have the pedigree of your own, several Jedi, members of CorSec, smugglers— that reminds me, I’d think that Mirax Terrik’s son would be better at smugglers’ games.”

“That was more Grandpa Booster than her,” Valin said in a matter-of-fact voice. “And Mom was too busy to be wasting time gambling during her smuggling days.”

“Well, I suppose pazaak is played in some more civilized worlds, so perhaps you will beat me— as long as we play by Corellian rules.”

“Better than Nar Shadaa rules.” Valin snorted again. “That was Jaina’s favorite.”

“Jaina’s. . . Right.” Allana built up her courage as she dealt the cards. “I know Jacen joined up with the survivors on Coruscant, you said— but Jaina wasn’t on Tatooine when the Second Purge happened.”

“She wasn’t. Lucky timing, too, she’d just left after the end of summer term on Chandrila.” Valin picked up his cards.

“I tried to contact her, when I left for Hapes,” Allana confessed. “But she didn’t pick up. By the time my transmissions got through to anybody— the staff of the Academy said she was gone. That she left in the middle of the night without speaking to anyone.”

“That’s what they told Jacen when he commed the Academy, too.” Valin set his cards back down, the logos facing up.

“Commed?” Allana frowned. “What about their connection, I thought they could—“

Valin shook his head. “Jacen said that something blocked it.”

“That’s not possible.” And yet—

“You said something cut you off from the Force,” Valin pointed out. “A lot of impossible things have been happening lately.”

“I guess so.”

Before Allana could ask any more questions, a shout echoed through the metal walks of the _Millennium Falcon_.

“Hey, this is your captain speaking, again! We’re about to land on Ahch-To, so get your sorry butts in the cockpit!”

“We should probably go—“ Valin pointed towards the cockpit.

“Yeah—“

As they got up, a bit of turbulence shook the old freighter, and Allana stumbled to grab onto something. Valin steadied her by reaching out a hand.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

With that understanding between them, they then ran straight to the cockpit. Grabbing on to the sides of the doors as Tahiri Veila and Kyp Durron sat down, the Falcon leapt out of hyperspace as it descended into the atmosphere of Ahch-To.

“The home of the Jedi,” Tahiri whispered aloud.

“The first Jedi,” Valin added.

On Nellith’s navigator were coordinates for the exact island, where the first Jedi temple was located.

As it loomed on the horizon, Allana felt an overwhelming nostalgia.

They hadn’t come here often, as children. Only once a year, around the date that Snoke died, all those years ago.

They were a family, playing in the waves and running along the rocks and hills. Sometimes, they would learn more about the ancient Jedi.

Ben, Jacen, and Anakin were more the Jedi historians of the family, so Allana recalled lying on the sand beside Thea.

It was one of the few good memories left, of all of them together.

Allana did remember that last good vacation. Thea was reading on her datapad some bills that the New Alderaanian Royal Council wanted to run by the future Queen. Allana was sunning herself next to her sister, enjoying the pure peace of the moment. The place was full of the Force.

Stars, Allana missed it.

She missed Nellith whooping as she played in the waves with Rey. She missed the sounds of whirring as Jaina tinkered with the remnants of the TIE fighter Rey once crashed on the shore, scavenging and creating something new. She missed her little brother emerging from the temple with their father, grinning with all the new knowledge before he joined Jacen in examining strange creatures in the tide pools.

Stars, she missed it.

“Look, there!” Tahiri pointed at a shadowy figure atop the mountain. “It’s Master Solo!”

Indeed, her father never had lost his love of wearing all-black ensembles and capes.

* * *

Upon making planetfall, Allana was the first to run up the steps. Several paces ahead of anyone else, she ran as fast as she possibly could. Propelled by a desperation Allana barely understood, she nearly flew— all the way up the Jedi steps.

Until she was there. Her father, right there— he didn’t seem real.

His cloak billowed in the high sea winds. “Allana?”

“Dad?” She slowed her steps.

“Allana!” His own quickened. “I— I’ve been looking for you all of these years—“

Allana froze. “What do you mean, you looked for me?”

He froze, too, at her angry tone. “Of course I would, I—“

“For months, I used Leia’s frequency!” Allana’s voice rose to a shout as tears came to her eyes— before she even knew what was happening. “For years! I kept trying and trying to contact you, and so did Tenel Ka! I went exactly where you told me to, and you didn’t!”

“I couldn’t sense you, the Force isn’t the same as it was—“

“You let Nellith become whatever she did! You let Jacen get captured, and now Thea is going to murder him on the HoloNet just because you went missing!” Allana gestured wildly. She didn’t care if her hair pins fell to the rocks. “Jacen is going to die, and it’s your fault!”

Ben, without saying a word, stepped closer. Allana shook her head.

“I can’t believe you— nothing? I thought you were dead, I—“

She kept shaking her head, backing away— until she ran back down the mountain, past the rest of the party. She couldn’t stand what she’d once wanted so desperately.


	13. Lost Years

In the tedium of hyperspace, Nellith had decided to go to the bed that had once belonged to her parents, and sleep through it. After all, she hadn’t gotten much the night before.

Not after what Kyp and Valin had told her.

But in her attempts to sleep through the journey to Ahch-To, she remembered dark things— a lightsaber, poised to kill— betrayal on her brother’s own face as Sith guards pulled him away— the feeling of lightning from her own sister—

Was it any wonder that Nellith Skywalker woke screaming from her dreams?

Instinctively, she reached out to Allana— only to remember why she couldn’t when she hit the equivalent of a brick wall in the Force.

She forced herself to sob into a pillow. Shaking with the implications of what came pouring in through the dream world—

“Are you okay?”

Nellith sat up to see Kyp Durron standing in the darkened doorway. She threw the sheets and the like to the side, and stood. Her coat and scarf hung in the closet— one of the few things her tired brain managed to do before passing out.

She didn’t acknowledge him, instead reaching for her jacket.

“Hey, Nellith?” His voice was softer. “Are you okay?”

“I think we know the answer to that.” Her voice was low as she shrugged on the jacket. She focused on the feeling of the worn leather beneath her fingers, the warmth of the silky lining on her bare shoulders, the sound that the hem of the Hapan gown made as she moved. They were grounding her, distracting her from what should have been at the forefront of her mind.

He stepped closer, letting the bright corridor of the _Falcon_ fade into the relative darkness of the bedroom.

“You’re starting to remember, aren’t you?” His voice was filled with compassion, sympathy.

Nellith wrapped her scarf around her bare collarbone, hiding the sweetheart neckline of the Hapan gown. She was layering herself in what she had. Why was she still shivering? Why was she still so cold?

“Yes. Bits and pieces— enough to know that you got it right.” Nellith couldn’t help the bitterness in her tone, like the Alderaanian teas that Ben and Anakin and Thea liked so much. “Not that I want to remember more.”

“It might be for the better,” Kyp agreed. He had not come any closer, instead staying away like she was a rabid kath hound. “Some memories are hell to live with.”

“She stole years from my life.” It hadn’t hit till now, as Nellith shivered in the cold of hyperspace in the Millennium Falcon, with circles under her eyes.

She whirled around to face Kyp. “I could have helped Jacen, I could have— I could have found Allana, or my mother, or Jaina or Dad— but my body and life was stolen from me by my own sister and she made me into—“

The words were stuck in her throat as she sobbed.

_Murderer. Traitor. Monster._

“It’s not your fault,” Kyp assured her, finally stepping closer. “There had to be something else going on, I remember that it didn’t feel right, quite like you when you showed up—“

“I still did it, didn’t I?” Nellith swiped fiercely at her own tears. “I did whatever she made me do. It doesn’t matter if she forced me or brainwashed me—“

“It does.” Kyp was earnest, dark green eyes luminous in the dark. “It matters.”

Without even thinking it further, she hugged him, crying and clinging to his cloak and tunic. He was something that was familiar, something that existed before everything burned down.

So he let her cry. For all that was lost.

* * *

Nellith felt like crying again when she approached the top of the summit, where her father stood. He stared behind them, at the steps Allana had run down.

Nellith had sensed Allana’s anger and resentment building, as much as she hid it behind her royal demeanor.

Not that Nellith blamed her.

But in the moment, she felt like crying again for a different reason. In that moment, Ben Solo wasn’t the scary Kylo Ren, or some savior from Exogol about to work his miracles again.

He was just her father— and that was enough.

“Nellith?”

“Dad!”

She felt as if she were eight or nine again as she ran to him, ahead of the rest of the party. He stumbled backwards a bit at the force of impact— but she’d never been able to make her dad tip over or fall. He was like the old sandstone walls on Tatooine.

Weathered, perhaps, but wasn’t going anywhere.

“Dad, I missed you so much.” She sniffled as she smiled, not caring what she looked like to anyone else.

“I’m so sorry,” he said,pushing her away just enough to get a better look at her face.“I—“

“What happened?” Nellith let go entirely.

Ben Solo let out a heavy sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“I think we’ve got a little while.”

“Come on, then, we should get out of the wind.”

* * *

Nellith remembered this cavern, with the pool and the mosaic. Light from the late afternoon sun drifted into the cavern through a hollow in the rock leading to a ledge. There, undisturbed in twenty-five years, were the tattered robes of Luke Skywalker.

His final resting place.

Nellith sat on the edge of the pool as her father did. The other Jedi lingered around, although Valin kept taking glances over his shoulder at the other entrance into the cavern.

“Maybe we should go after Allana,” Valin suggested.

Ben shook his head. “Give her time. It’s safer here than anywhere else in the galaxy. She can take all the time she needs, away from the rest of us. Away from me.”

Nellith remembered that part of her childhood vacations at Ahch-To as well. How she would sometimes find a little ledge or hollow in the mountain or beach caverns. Her favorite was a little green cliff that overlooked crashing waves, where porgs liked to nest.

It had been her own little patch of solitude and serenity. She could just sit and let the wind blow dark curls out of her face, listen to the waves crash below, feel the grass and the world alive around her in a perfect balance.

She could feel whatever she wanted there— most of all the quiet.

She felt her father’s brandy-brown eyes on her, and looked up to meet him. She’d inherited some of the odd angles of his face, his dark curls. And, from him— although not Ben himself, but rather, his Skywalker blood— she’d gotten the blue Skywalker eyes.

Something that neither of her siblings got, in their brandy browns or greenish hazels. It had always set her apart— a blessing as a middle child with no title like Thea, no special bond like Jacen and Jaina, no burdensome name like Anakin’s, and no special destiny like Allana’s.

But even despite the difference in eye color, they were more alike now than ever.

“I hoped this would never happen,” Ben said softly. He’d sensed it too.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing, that I take after you.” She ignored Valin’s thoughts— practically screaming in the Force of the blasphemy that that was. For all that Valin was a good and loyal Jedi Knight, he never did like or trust Ben compared to Rey and the other masters.

“Like me when I was your age.” He frowned. “Your sister’s voice— she’s been whispering to you. Like the Emperor did to me. And to your grandmother.”

“My grandmother?” Rey never spoke of her parents. She changed the subject quite quickly, after reminding them that she was from Jakku— as close to nowhere as it got.

“Another story, for another time.” Ben sighed, looking his age. More silver streaks appeared in the dark curls than Nellith remembered. More wrinkles on her father’s face. “I never wanted any of my children to feel anything like that— much less do that to someone—“

A fear struck Nellith as she remembered her parents’ stories. “Is she still in my head? She could still spy on us—“

Kyp shook his head. “There was something strange about you before, the first time you returned. It’s gone now. And we all remember what Thea felt like when she became Keera, no?”

He gestured to Tahiri and Valin. “No? No? Yes. I didn’t sense any of that, even when she was asleep.”

“There is one way to know for sure,” Ben said. “I can reach out and see.”

“Is there anything I need to do?” Nellith asked.

“Just focus on something calm, feeling at ease.”

Nellith could feel her father’s presence as he reached out his hand. This was not the same thing Poe Dameron and her mother experienced on Starkiller Base. It was more a gentle and vague wave washing over her, checking for any red flags.

But as soon as he attempted to observe, he was thrown out— and backwards literally— into the pool.

“I’m so sorry—“

“It’s alright.” Ben sat up. “You’re fine. When Rey and I were teaching Corran and Tionne, we discovered the barrier on us— and we speculated it was because of the Emperor’s influence.”

“Like how you get sick and you’re immune to it after?” Kyp asked.

“Exactly like that.” Ben smiled sadly. “At least no one can get inside your head again.”

“Look, this is great and all,” Tahiri interrupted, “but we want to know where you’ve been all this time, Master Solo. We thought you and Rey were dead.”

“Rey left to go get Jaina from the Academy on Chandrila,” Ben explained. “I was looking for any of the others— but I couldn’t feel any of you. After Rey left, our bond stopped working.”

“Something’s blocking it in the Force,” Nellith realized aloud.

“I checked some of the other places, like Lando’s station on the asteroid belt, Coruscant, even Jakku, before coming here and waiting. I thought one of you would remember this place.”

“It’s a big galaxy, and Thea knew about here,” Kyp reminded him. “Jacen thought there would be a trap here.”

“Thea’s gotten ahold of some big power if she’s able to block transmissions in the Force,” Valin said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Nellith said. Then she stood up. “But we can’t keep sitting around and talking about this. Jacen will die if we don’t rescue him. And we’re not handing you over, Dad. We’re going to save him.”


	14. Cassiopeia

Allana’s steps finally slowed as she reached a part of the island she didn’t recognize. She stood on the cliffside ledge, watching the water recede from a hole with moss climbing out of the sides.

She’d never seen this part of the island in all her explorations as a little girl. Then again, she wasn’t one of the ones that did a lot of exploring. That was more Jacen and Jaina.

The thought of her siblings made her dig her painted fingernails into her palms.

Now that she was faced with the reality that her father survived, it was completely different. Rage, like an ocean right beneath a durocrete dome, threatened to seize her.

How could he? How could he spend all this time on Ahch-To and never realize that they weren’t coming? He was supposed to be one of the strongest Force-users ever, right alongside her mother in all the history texts.

And yet he couldn’t sense her or her mother or her siblings when they were scattered among the stars?

She had to keep getting away, before her anger grew too powerful. For while she was without the Force, history had seen what happened to a Skywalker who didn’t keep their anger in check.

That was easier, Allana supposed, when she approached the cliff, when she was younger. She didn’t have nearly as much to be angry about then.

She jumped down in the hole— and was surprised by the water. She kicked, quickly resurfacing and spotting the shore. Rocky and smooth, it was made of a more refined version of the stone that made up the mountain and the temple and huts.

She pulled off her cloak, and set out her commlink and blaster. Suddenly, she was grateful that the commlinks had been water-proofed after Vanya pushed her in the pool the previous summer on Madrassa.

As for the blaster, it would dry out eventually. As she stood up, however, she was surrounded by cracked mirrors and darkness.

Allana glanced back down at the blaster, and decided to take her chances. At the very least, she supposed she could bludgeon someone with it, if any monsters hid inside this mirror cavern.

“Allana!”

She heard a shout and turned around, holding up the blaster over her shoulder, a remnant from her training as a small child. Ben had called it uncivilized, but Rey reminded him that the children were around weaponry every moment of every day, and the least they could do was make sure the children shot them properly, if nothing else.

Perhaps it wasn’t that funny of a joke, but Allana was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Who’s there?” Her voice did not shake or tremble, sounding as icy as Tenel Ka’s tones.

“Allana! Please!”

It was the sound of her mother’s voice. She ran through the maze of mirrors, trying to track it, to find her mom— Rey was in trouble—

Then she came across them. Rey, defenseless. Her blaster broken on the rocks beside her, the saber-staff in the hand of Darth Keera, cloaked and holding her own red lightsaber.

Rey was looking behind Keera, straight at Allana.

“Allana, please, stop her— Allana—-“

Allana shook her head, clarity finally coming through. “You’re not my mother. She’d tell me to run.” Allana swallowed thickly. “She did. She did tell me to run.”

Then Rey vanished, leaving Darth Keera there. The Empress of the Imperial Remnant threw back her hood as she turned to face Allana.

Darth Keera was dark and beautiful, Allana decided. Her heart broke, for far too many of her beloved sister’s features remained in her face. She wore red and gold jewelry, accenting her black cloak with intricate black embroidery, her yellow eyes and red saber.

Immediately, she was brought back to one of those last good days.

* * *

_It was right before her coronation, as the Queen of New Alderaan. Many had already begun celebrating. The Organa line was restored, as it should have been long ago._

_Allana had been sent up to her sister’s new room to fetch her for the ceremony. She lifted the burgundy overskirt in a fistful of material that caught some of the gray lining as she entered the room._

_It was odd, to think that her sister would be living here now, and no longer on Tatooine, at the Praxeum. She supposed she knew that all her siblings wouldn’t remain at home forever, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. Jaina was off to Flight Academy, and after this, Jacen would begin his Jedi Trials, following directly after Thea._

_“Thea? They’re waiting for you,” Allana called out. She stood there awkwardly, admiring in silence the tapestries and the bed and all of the pretty things that only a royal would use._

_“Just give me a moment.”_

_Out of the closet stepped Thea. She wore a stunning violet gown with a flared skirt and blue gauze sleeves, fastened to the gown through a series of emeralds. It complimented Thea’s light hazel eyes, made them look more green than brown. Her hair was half up, half-down, with cascading black curls down her back. Her makeup was precise._

_Thea looked like a queen— not the cool big sister that Allana had known all her life._

_“Wow.”_

_“I know.” Thea smiled, picking up the edges of the gown. She spun around once, like an excited little girl. “To think, I’ll be wearing things like this every day, once I’m. . .”_

_She trailed off, looking to the bed, with its pristine golden sheets._

_Without warning, she walked over and flopped onto the bed._

_More out of intuition than anything else, Allana joined her. For a moment, the sisters lay there in silence._

_“I wish this moment could be forever,” Thea finally said. “When I get up— it’s over. I’m Queen, and there’s no going back.”_

_Allana looked up, alarmed. “I thought you wanted to be Queen.”_

_Thea laughed. “Oh, I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.”_

_“I guess so. I don’t want anything to change either,” Allana confessed. “But it still will. And some things always stay the same.”_

_“That’s true.” Thea smiled and sat up. “I suppose we should go downstairs, shouldn’t we? Can’t have a coronation without a queen.”_

* * *

The memory faded out as Allana returned to present, faced with some manifestation of the corrupted version of her sister.

In horror, Allana realized she wore her hair and makeup in the same way she did during the coronation.

Darth Keera smiled wickedly, and raised her red lightsaber. She didn’t bother to run. She’d get there fast enough— just like when she’d massacred the Jedi on Tatooine.

Allana started to run through the maze— but the faster she tried to run, the closer Keera was, the more she could hear the screams that she’d tried so hard to block out that night—

Then she turned around and Keera was there, and she raised her saber—

Allana closed her eyes, expecting a terrible fire in her chest—

But instead she just fell to the ground, roughly on the rocks.

She cried. Truly mourned for her mother and Jaina and Thea, like she couldn’t on Hapes. She’d been crying more lately, but it wasn’t enough.

It was like a damn broke inside of her, as she finally came to terms with all that had happened.

And then, for the first time in three years, she felt a presence with her.

Standing in front of her, translucent and blue, was the very vision of Jaina Solo. She was wearing a black tank top, her flightsuit zipped down to the waist, her lightsaber clipped to her hip.

“Hey, Allie.” Jaina smiled, looking so much like Han Solo when she did so. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been trying to get through for a long time.”

“For three years.” Then Allana realized what that meant. “You’re dead?”

Jaina shrugs. “Happens to the best of us. Wasn’t too happy when it happened— but— well, the others say I can’t tell you that, not yet. Let’s just say that we’re in the endgame now, and it’ll all be okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Allana asked.

“Wish I could say.” Jaina sighed, sitting down properly. “Stars, you’ve been more stubborn than a nerf.”

“I was cut off from the Force,” Allana reminded her.

“You cut yourself off.” Jaina let her hair out of the messy bun at the nape of her neck. “I don’t blame you— even from Chandrila, that night was overwhelming— to say the least. I wish I’d been there. I could’ve stopped her. Me and Jacen—“

“No one knew,” Allana assured her. “No one could have guessed that would happen. It’s not your fault. She made her choices.”

Jaina raised an eyebrow. “If only you could extend your wisdom to yourself.”

“What do you mean?’

“You blame yourself and take responsibility,” Jaina said. “Don’t. It’s alright.”

“I still need to stop Thea.”

“That’s true.”

“I just wish I knew how.”

“It’s going to take some time and some hard work,” Jaina said. “But we know how the story goes in this family. Light triumphs over the dark, no matter what.”

“That is true.” But the word family reminded Allana of a fear she still held. “Is Mum with you?”

“No.” Jaina shook her head. “I can’t tell you where, though. Thea’s done a hell of a job blocking us, too.”

“Damn.”

“I know.” Jaina clapped a ghostly hand on Allana’s shoulder. “But I’ll be with you. And all we can do is the next right thing. And the next right thing is to join the other Jedi, and go save Jacen. Think you can do that?”

“I can try.” Allana stood.

“And if you see Jacen— tell him I love him, okay?” There was vulnerability in Jaina’s blue face.

Allana nodded. “I promise.”

Jaina nodded curtly, and stood. Then she disappeared, as did the mirrors. And Allana was alone in the cavern.

But she was no longer closed off to the Force. The galaxy was more alive than before. And Allana was no longer afraid.


	15. The War Room

They stood in the lounge of the _Falcon_ in silence for a moment. Nellith’s eyes darted over each one of them. Tahiri. Valin. Kyp. Chewie. Artoo. Ben. 

And then, just as they were about to start, in came Allana. Her hair was dripping and there was a bright, almost crazed look in her eye. She slammed her wet blaster down on the dejarik table, her completely soaked-through cloak on top.

Chewie grumbled something about having just cleaned and refurbished the seats.

It was the exact type of thing that Threepio might have scolded them for.

“We’ll have to get him, too,” Nellith said aloud.

“Who?” Valin asked.

“C-3PO.” Nellith looked to Artoo. “He has almost as much data as Artoo here— and he was with Thea on New Alderaan as a coronation gift—“

“Oh no.” Allana had caught onto her thoughts. “That might be behind whatever Darth Keera’s done to cause us to lose our connections to one another. Who knows what he knows that we don’t?”

That’s when Nellith realized—

“You’re back online.”

“Yeah.” Allana grinned. “It just. . . It happened. In the cave. By the way, Jaina sends her regards.”

“Wait— Jaina’s dead?” Ben’s gaze grew hollow. His fingers flexed as he reached out, to confirm it. “She— she is. And I didn’t know.”

No one knew what to say in his grief. It became a heavy shadow, lingering in the room.

“Then we owe it to her to save Jacen.”

Everyone looked up to Nellith. She straightened her posture. She would fix this. Whatever happened next— she had do.

“Artoo, can you pull up a map?”

The room was suddenly filled with translucent blue projections, including a marker for Ahch-To.

“Mark New Alderaan for me, Artoo, please.”

Without so much as a beep or whistle of complaint, Artoo did so.

“We’d be going into the heart of the Remnant,” Valin whispered.

“I’ve heard the planet’s under lockdown,” Kyp said. “We’ve got the most famous ship in the galaxy, after the Death Star, maybe. We’re not getting in there.”

“Except when Mum and Aunt Rose got together for the last time, they equipped the _Falcon_ with a custom cloaking device and scramble box.” Allana’s brandy-brown eyes gleamed. “Jaina told me— she’d helped with it, before she went to flight school.”

“Isn’t that handy?” Tahiri mused over the map for a moment. “We actually have a mole on New Alderaan. He’ll help us. He can meet us at the shipyards, and get us into the palace.”

“Is that where they’re holding Jacen?” Nellith asked.

“Keera’s keeping him in her private apartments.”

“So we have two objectives.” Everyone naturally looked to Ben, with his low, commanding voice. He had inherited the natural political charisma of his mother before him and her mother before her. “We retrieve Threepio, and we rescue Jacen.”

“Our source says that both are in Darth Keera’s apartments.” Tahiri crossed her arms over her chest. “Someone’s got to stay with the ship, though.”

“I’ll stay with the ship,” Kyp volunteered. “I can pilot out quickly.”

“It might be best that Chewie stay here, too,” Tahiri added. “And Artoo. They’re distinctive, and our contact wants only humans to go, since we can easily slip into uniforms at the laundromat.”

“Well, I’m going,” Nellith declared, placing her hands on her hips.

“I need to go, too,” Allana added. Eyes went to her blaster. Even if she had regained her powers, like Nellith, she had never gotten her own lightsaber. And she was more valuable politically. “I’ve actually been in her apartments before.”

Valin cleared his throat. “I think we’d all feel better if you stayed here.”

Nellith could sense her sister’s disappointment.

But Allana just smiled politely. “I understand. Besides, I suppose someone has to keep Kyp company.”

There was a flash in Valin’s eyes— but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

“Then we know who the party is,” Ben recapped. “Tahiri, Valin, myself, Nellith, and whomever is your contact.”

Tahiri’s green eyes twinkled. “I think you’ll recognize him when we get there.”

“Then we’d better get going,” Nellith said. “We’ve got no time to lose.”

She then gestured for Chewie to follow her into the cockpit. While the others worked to close up the _Falcon_ , she punched in the hyperspace route to New Alderaan.

She had to set things right.

_For Jaina._

Before she could start the ascent, she sensed her father behind her.

“Be careful, Nellith.” She looked up at her father.

“I will.”

“Revenge isn’t the way of a Jedi.”

“Maybe not.” She looked back to her controls. “But this isn’t for me— it’s for Jaina.”

Ben was silent for a moment, pondering his words. “She’s still your sister.”

With that, he turned to leave the cockpit.

“I don’t care that she’s my sister.” The words felt wrong as they leapt out of Nellith’s mouth, but it was too late, they couldn’t be taken back. “She killed my little brother, and my older sister. And she’ll kill my other brother too. I don’t think family matters to her, either.”

Ben paused. “I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong to feel that way. All the same, I’ll ask you to reconsider it. To look through your anger.”

Nellith hesitated.

“Just think about it.”

Then Ben slipped out of the cockpit.

Nellith looked to Chewie. “Do you think I’m being unreasonable?”

Chewie shook his head.

“Thanks.”

She then looked to the evening sky of Ahch-To.

“Alright, then. Let’s go save Jacen.”


	16. The Palace

Allana disliked that she was being put on the shelf for this mission. What she disliked even more was that the others were avoiding her— except for Chewie.

The family Wookiee sat with her at the dejarik table, playing carefully.

Unlike Finn and Poe, who’d frequently complained to Sam and Danni about the cheating habits of their furry friend, who then passed such complaints on to Allana, the princess of Hapes knew how to play just as dirty as Chewie did.

Such smuggler’s advice, passed on from Ben, didn’t exactly put her over the edge, though. It merely put them on even ground.

So it didn’t surprise her when she lost.

“Good game.” Allana smiled graciously. “Want to play again?”

Chewie considered it for a moment as Allana felt a shadow enter the room. Allana shifted uncomfortably— she didn’t know how to talk to her dad, after her outburst on the mountain.

She wasn’t ready to apologize yet— she didn’t want to take any of it back. So what if the Force bonds were down? He’d always talked about how as a young adult, he felt like he couldn’t go back home, how his parents had given up on him.

How could he repeat that same mistake that made him still speak with bitterness and resentment in terms of his family?

“Move over, I know a thing or two about dejarik.”

Allana did so, gripping the bottom of the seat. “I assume we don’t have much longer in our hyperspace route?”

“Only two more standard hours.” Ben punched the buttons turning on the dejarik game. “Move the houjix four pieces to the right.”

Allana did so.

Chewie responded with an attack from his Kintan strider that the houjix was adjacent to.

“Move your Mantellian into position,” Ben said. “Also, hit the board here— it’ll prevent that glitch that gives the player two moves in one turn.”

Chewie roared his dissatisfaction.

“Oh, I didn’t know there were physical components.” Allana hit it. “I guess I can use all of this for while Kyp and Chewie and Artoo and I sit here and twiddle our thumbs while you and Nellith get to go out and be heroes.”

Ben was silent a moment, considering his words carefully. “I don’t want Nellith out there, either. I don’t want any of my remaining children in battle.”

“Then why don’t you stop her?” Allana was aware she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it. For the first time in three years, she felt like she had the power to change things. And now, only now, were people telling her that she couldn’t.

“I remember what I felt like, in her shoes.” Ben avoided her eyes. “Angry, at what’s been taken. I didn’t want to listen to anyone or anything after I’d realized what Snoke had taken from me.”

Chewbacca mumbled something to the degree that Ben was always angry, ever since he was sent to Luke’s Jedi school as a small child.

“Laugh it up,” Ben said dryly. “Like you didn’t cause Dad to replace this thing because you threw a temper tantrum the first time I beat you at dejarik.”

While Chewbacca then groaned and roared in protest, Allana smiled, then sighed.

“I know you want to protect us— it’s just that now I’m finally able to do something about it all,” Allana said. “I’ve been stuck and helpless and useless all this time.”

“Not helpless, and not useless,” Ben said. “Not if you’ve got a Hapan cloak, and Nellith has a Hapan dress. You were taken in by Tenel Ka, weren’t you?”

She looked him dead in the eyes. “I am the Chume’da, now.”

“She’d been looking for an heir, after she returned from the dark side,” Ben reminded her. “She had many lovers and maybe one of them might have given her the daughter she needed. However, I am happy to hear that she accepted you like a daughter.”

Allana shrugged. “Hapan parenting must be cold, then.”

“I hated this excuse when I was your age, but she really was trying to protect you.” Ben looked to Chewie. “The lucky part about growing up with a pack of Jedi ready to fight for you is that you never had to worry about the kidnapping attempts that I did.”

“Kidnapping attempts?” Allana raised an eyebrow. “You said you had a great childhood.”

“A cooking droid also attempted to kill me when I was three— there were some bad times in there too, same as anyone.”

Chewbacca then started to recount a time that he’d been knocked out with a pressure bomb during the most successful of the kidnapping attempts.

“There was this weird thing with an inter-dimensional being— I don’t know, maybe I’m not remembering this right?” Ben looked to Chewie for affirmation. “Look, I don’t have as great of a memory as you do. That’s what happens humans get old.”

Chewie just shrugged at that. He did confirm that the incident regarding a space station near a crystallizing star was, to put it honestly, kriffing weird.

“Anyway, kidnapping is not an integral part of your childhood, and I’m not eager for it to start,” Ben continued. “I’m sure Tenel feels the same way.”

“I guess so.”

“Allana?”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“You have to stay safe— you’re heir to sixty systems and one of the biggest powers in the galaxy, rivaling the New Republic and the Remnant.” Ben’s voice was gentle, understanding, even— but firm. “Not to mention the visions your mother held. You have a part to play in this. You always have. And it will be more important than this mission.”

Allana sighed. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

Ben smiled. “Now you sound like your mother.”

* * *

Allana watched as the party left the _Falcon_ , and then returned to the cockpit, staring out at the royal city. There were the clean lines and white stone typical of Alderaanian architecture.

But they were not soothing and merely pretty anymore. They were threatening under the rule of the Remnant. A stark reminder that the light was always watching. And it was not a good light.

“Might as well step away from there, Princess,” Kyp said. “Chrono’ll say ten minutes, top, but it’ll feel like five hours of watching the sand dunes at the Praxeum if we don’t find something to do.”

“What if they need us?” Allana asked, watching the silhouettes of the people in the royal city.

Kyp tapped the temple of his head. “That’s what the Force is for.”

Allana wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think that’s how the Force works.”

“Come on, help me take inventory, or something so we don’t die of boredom.”

“Let’s play Chewie and Artoo, head to head match,” Allana suggested.

“With the biggest cheaters on this ship?” Kyp pouted. “No thanks. Not for all the credits in the galaxy.”

“What if we could win?” Allana smirked.

“Look, I know I’m not supposed to tell a Corellian the odds, Valin’s ripped me plenty of new ones over that, but I’m pretty sure the odds are zero at that.”

“I know a few tricks,” Allana promised. She gently pushed him out of the cockpit. And yet she couldn’t help herself.

She stole one more glance at the city.

There were all those people who expected Thea Organa, as she called herself throughout her political career, to save them, to bring the last remnant of their culture home.

Instead she brought the remnant of their destruction.


	17. A Daring Rescue

It was night on New Alderaan when the _Millennium Falcon_ landed in the royal spaceport. After a tense exchange with Tahiri working the radio, they managed to end up in the correct lot to meet their mole.

Tahiri fronted the group as the loading ramp descended. They entered the New Alderaanian night. A full moon shone overhead like a floodlight, illuminating the white spires and durocrete so that there was no shadow to hide in.

“Zekk!” Tahiri couldn’t hold back her smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

Nellith felt stupid for not guessing it sooner. He’d gone to live with Thea after her coronation as her official lover and future consort. Indeed, he wore one of the highest-ranking uniforms in the Remnant.

“We’ll have to move quickly— if the Empress has discovered I’ve betrayed her, we’ll have to make a fast escape, and I knew I could hide my true loyalties for only so long.” Zekk’s bright green eyes ran over the group, taking in each member. He stopped at Ben. “Master Solo— I’m thrilled that you’re here.”

“I’m thrilled that you weren’t actually relapsing into the dark side again,” Ben said.

Zekk shook his head. “I’m happy I was rescued from Tavion— I have no need to go back to the dark.”

His eyes then found Nellith, and his gaze softened. “I’m happy you got to the Princess Leia safe and sound, kid.”

“Wait— you put me in the cryogenics?” Nellith frowned.

“We’ll talk about it later— but we both agreed to the arrangement, before your memory— but again, we need to get a move on,” Zekk amended hastily. “Come on, I disabled the security sensors in the laundromat. It won’t last long.”

The party huddled close to Zekk as they headed inside the Mirrorbright Palace.

* * *

Dressed in uniforms of teal and black and gray, in contrast to the white setting, the party continued onwards.

They were familiar to Nellith, and of course, there were many reasons why. Even from what she could remember, she’d been there once, for her sister’s coronation.

The Mirrorbright Palace was a labor of love. Every nook and cranny had a beautiful detail, showing the designs and artwork of Alderaanian artists. The halls were well-illuminated but not harsh, to display everything in glows of beauty.

Zekk led them across the corridor from the first lift to the second. Nellith frowned.

“There wasn’t a lift there on the lower levels.”

“Clever,” Zekk said. “Although you wouldn’t remember this anymore, it’s a security measure to protect the Empress against any threats.”

He then pulled out a keycard, and inserted it into the panel beside the lift.

The doors split open for the party, and Zekk gave off a gentlemanly gesture.

“Ladies first.”

Tahiri snorted as she took him up on that.

After the party crowded into the elevator, Zekk joined them, and the lift shot up to Darth Keera’s personal apartments.

Zekk was the first to enter, and he beckoned the others to join him after a quick sweep of the area. Darth Keera wasn’t there.

“Master Zekk, is that you—“

Never was Nellith so relieved to see the droid.

“Mistress Nellith! It is a surprise— after the way Mistress Thea carried on, I thought you were never coming back— and you have brought friends!”

“We’ve come to get you out, Threepio,” Ben said. “But first, where’s Jacen?”

“Why, Master Jacen is in his room, as usual.”

Zekk pulled out a different keycard. “Thea’s gonna be pissed when she realizes this is missing.”

Nellith’s heart beat faster, and she could feel her brother’s presence. It was like a jungle on Yavin IV, busy and always moving— but yet there was serenity. History was there.

But now there was more darkness and hurt in her brother’s heart, she sensed.

She only could fear that Jacen was not like whatever she’d been in those years when Darth Keera had her in her claws—

Zekk opened a door to reveal a windowless room with just shackles and a white floor.

Jacen was there, not shackled, but sitting in a corner. His hair had grown out. There were cuts on his cheek and hands, blood stains on the white cloth tunic and pants he wore. There was a dazed look in his eyes, and he refused to look up.

“You’re not real, you’re not real,” he mumbled.

“Jacen!” Tahiri gently pushed Nellith out of the way, and cupped his face in her hands. “Jacen, it’s me.”

“Thea, stop.” His words slurred together. “Thea, please, just stop doing this.”

Valin came in next, kneeling beside Tahiri. “It’s me, bud. We’re really here. We’ve come to get you out.”

Jacen frowned. “Thea, where are you going with this?”

Then he looked up and saw Nellith. His disappointment was cutting. “Nellith, please— you’re not like her— I know you never meant it—“

“They’re not projections.” Nellith stood awkwardly at the precipice of the small room. “I came to rescue you. I don’t remember everything— I know I’m the reason you’re here, and I want to fix it. I even found Dad. We’re gonna go home.”

“Dad?” Jacen craned his neck, and then squinted. “You’re— you’re here?”

Jacen then swallowed thickly. “I didn’t think—“

“Come on,” Tahiri interrupted gently. “The Jedi on Coruscant are waiting for you. We’ve been trying to figure out where you went all this time. We love you— we never planned on leaving you here.”

Zekk then frowned as he pressed his commlink. “Hey, I hate to interrupt a touching moment, but we’ve got to run. Darth Keera’s coming for a surprise inspection.”

Tahiri and Valin then practically leapt out of the room as Ben entered, lifting his adult son like it was nothing.

“We need to leave, now.”

They crowded into the elevator with Threepio,and descended into the level where the other lift was. Moving quickly, they entered the second lift, entering the corridor that would take them straight to the spaceport.

However, as Nellith was about to exit through the doors into the open night, she sensed an icy presence. It was a warm night on New Alderaan.

She whirled around as Darth Keera turned the corner.

Her sister was beautiful, in her sleeveless scarlet gown and golden diadem with a single red teardrop in the center of her forehead. Her golden eyes cut through even the brightness, a horror unto themselves. She reached for the long scepter-style lightsaber at her golden belt.

With a quick, switching moment, the scepter unfolded to reveal its true nature as a double-bladed red lightsaber.

Nellith in that moment was overcome with rage. Her sister had taken so much from her, from her other siblings, from her friends.

Her whole life had been changed and turned upside down. It was time for Darth Keera to pay.

Nellith pulled her blaster rifle and fired on the Sith Empress.

As if it were child’s play, or a training game from the Praxeum, Darth Keera reflected the bolts with her saber without flinching.

She continued her advancement, forwards, towards Nellith.

“Nellith, wait—“

“Nellith, no!”

“Come on—“

She could hear her friends’ shouts and pleas. But it was too late. She could end this here, she was sure of it. And if she died trying— then at least she died trying to atone or her mistakes.

“We have to leave her, let’s go—“

It was then that the blaster flew out of Nellith’s hand, and she was paralyzed. She felt an invisible hand shove her down on her knees, force her hands behind her back.

“So my Hand returns,” Darth Keera sneered. “And you brought me new prey.”

It was a guilt-ridden punch to the stomach.

Whatever else happened, she couldn’t let the Remnant take her friends.

She reached out in the Force, and pulled at a structural beam.

Down it went crashing behind her, blocking off the door.

Darth Keera let out an animalistic snarl as she started to raise it back up.

That was all Nellith needed. She broke free of the paralysis, and pulled down another beam, right between Keera and herself.

Darth Keera darted back in surprise. She snapped back the other end of her saber-staff, and whirled it just like their mother would in fights with her yellow lightsaber.

Nellith reached out and pulled the beam by the other doors back down, and leapt over the first. She ducked under Darth Keera’s swing, and managed to kick Darth Keera’s legs out from under her.

The red saber-staff came to her hand like a loyal Kath-Hound when called.

Darth Keera propped herself up on her forearms, and stretched out one hand. Black lightning emerged, and Nellith was quick to block the strike with the saber-staff.

The handles shook and vibrated with the new charge of energy. Nellith thought it might just shatter in her hands.

 _Let it shatter, get rid of one of her weapons_ , Nellith thought numbly as she fought to stand her ground.

Darth Keera rose to her feet as stormtroopers filled the corridor. None dared to fire, however, in fear of hurting or disobeying the secret wishes of their Empress.

Nellith gritted her teeth, and swung.

The lightning was redirected, and bounded down the hallway before sizzling out, consumed by its own energy.

Before Nellith could take a swing at her sister, however, Darth Keera clenched her fist and raised it into the air.

The lightsaber dropped to the ground, hitting the button that turned it off with a clatter.

Nellith clawed at the invisible hands around her throat. Her vision was already going spotty, all she could hear was a dull roar.

This was how it would end, she realized. She reached out for the last time, and could feel that the _Falcon_ had left the atmosphere of New Alderaan.

At least they were safe. At least all they had lost was the Skywalker daughter that didn’t matter, that wasn’t as important.

Then Nellith fell to the ground, gasping for breath as Darth Keera stared daggers into her with golden eyes.

“I may have lost my Hand and my bait,” she murmured. “But I can regain what I lost. Take her to my chambers— I will personally recondition her.”

Before Nellith could get up, attempt to fight back, Darth Keera waved a hand over her body. Then all faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zekk’s backstory is slightly different here. Still an orphan, still fell in with the dark side— but he played more of a role of Rosh Penin in the Jedi Academy games. Hence the reference that Tavion was his main Sith encounter, not Brakiss. (Partially because Brakiss was repurposed as one of Thea’s apprentices)


	18. Where the Plan Went Wrong

Just as Kyp and Allana were about to deliver the wining stroke, she stood up from the dejarik table.

“Something’s wrong— or about to go wrong— we need to get to the loading ramp.”

“Chewie and I’ll get to the cockpit.” Kyp handed Allana his violet lightsaber. “You check out the loading ramp.”’

“Got it.” She raced to the cargo bay and opened the ramp just as the party emerged from the spaceport doors.

Tahiri was in the lead, several paces ahead of Valin and Threepio.

“Come on, goldenrod, let’s speed this up!” Valin tried to pick up Threepio, only for the droid to refuse such a treatment.

Zekk closed the doors of the spaceport behind him, and ran to help Valin carry Threepio.

Bringing up the rear was Ben Solo, holding a barely-conscious Jacen in his arms.

“We gotta make a quick escape— get ready to jump to lightspeed when the door closes!” Allana ordered.

She received no indication for certain that Kyp had heard her, but she was certain that he did all the same. Tahiri grabbed one of the poles in the loading door as she stumbled inside, slightly out of breath.

“Darth Keera knows we’re here,” Tahiri panted.

Allana glanced out as Valin and Zekk entered and set Threepio down. Artoo rolled up to greet his old friend. Zekk then ran down the ramp as Ben approached, holding a blaster out.

Ben slowed to a walk as he entered the ramp, and Zekk withdrew.

“Close the loading ramp,” Ben ordered.

Zekk was about to when Allana slapped his hand. “Where’s Nellith?”

No one answered her immediately, and Zekk closed the door.

“Where’s Nellith?” Allana repeated, her voice rising to a shout.

“She decided to try to fight Keera,” Tahiri said. “We tried to tell her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“We had to leave her.” Zekk leaned against the side of the cargo hold a moment. He gave Allana a look of sympathy. “Or else this whole mission would be for nothing.”

“We should turn around, we can end this, we can still save her— all of us could go against Keera and win—“

Before she could make a command, the ship recoiled from the leap to hyperspace.

Before Allana could fall over, Valin caught her.

“No,” she whispered. It was too late. She stumbled forward, out of Valin’s grip, and dropped to her knees.

She’d lost her sister again, after only a few days.

“If only I’d been there,” she whispered. “We could’ve taken her on together.”

“And you both would have been captured.” Valin crouched down beside her. “And Hapes would have lost the heir they needed.”

“‘Destiny has but one throne,’ I know.” Allana closed her eyes.

“What?”

Allana had forgotten the secret that her parents had kept of it, in that moment of grief and anger.

“Before Nellith and I were born, it was prophesied that I would take up the seat of something called the Throne of Balance, and would become the Jedi Queen.” Allana sighed. “Sometimes, I dream of it. Things are different, though. My hair’s red, my dad’s dead, and there are other people I don’t recognize. But Jaina’s there. That’s the most common one. There are others, too, though. Like little shards of other possibilities of how I could have been born, and where and when.”

“A shatterpoint.” Valin’s voice was reverent.

“Sort of.” Allana’s eyes flashed open. “But I’m tired of waiting for my destiny to come like dilapidated fairytale. And I’m done hiding and being afraid of Darth Keera.”

“We all know how powerful she is,” Valin reminded her. “She burned our home, destroyed our lives—“

“And we can’t let her get away with that.” Allana closed her eyes again, let out a deep breath, and nodded. The path forward seemed clear now, for the first time. “Not for revenge. For justice.”

She opened her eyes and looked to Valin. “I know you didn’t trust her when she came back. But she’s proven her loyalties now. She’s as much of a Jedi as the rest of us.”

“She is,” Valin admitted. He then looked almost angry. “Maybe we don’t want you to get in trouble because we care about you— I don’t care about your destiny or title, I care about you, I don’t want you getting hurt—“

“I know,” Allana said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know there’s more to it than that, that plenty of people in this galaxy love me. But here’s the thing— even on that first awful night, lots of people were looking out for me. Tenel Ka, Chewbacca, even Mum and Dad, even if I didn’t see it then.”

“And you can’t throw away the sacrifices they’ve made—“

“And I won’t.” Allana smiled sadly. “But don’t you see? No one’s been looking out for Nellith. We needed to. We need to now. The Jedi— we’re all one family, we care about each other. Now the family needs to come and save her.”

Valin let out a low whistle. “I don’t think many Jedi are going to take you up on that, after what she did. It’s pretty obvious what she was— Jacen pretty much told us.”

“She was Thea’s apprentice, wasn’t she?”

“Not quite.”

Allana blushed as she looked up to see that Zekk was still standing there. She retracted her hand back to her side awkwardly.

“She was an Empress’s Hand.” Zekk opened his eyes. “The practice came from the Emperor, back during the Empire itself. Have multiple apprentices who aren’t trained in the super powerful Sith stuff, but can still do your dark side bidding around the galaxy.”

“But not willingly— Nellith didn’t choose to, did she?”

Zekk shook his head. “Thea took another page out of Palpatine’s book there. Brainwashing, mental connections— nasty stuff. They do a lot of it in the Shadow Academy she’s set up.”

“Why didn’t you stop her? Why didn’t you help any of them?” Allana demanded. “Why did you wait three years—“

“I didn’t.” Zekk moved away from the wall. “I tried to help her— it was a slow process. The indoctrination, it goes deep. But one day, Nellith was able to break out of it. She couldn’t live with what she’d done.”

“You used the Force to wipe her memory,” Allana realized. The puzzle pieces were clicking together. “She asked you to. So she wouldn’t have to remember what Darth Keera made her do. So she could move on, show up as some miracle Jedi hero.”

“Yes.” Zekk nodded. “I set up the cryogenics, and got ahold of Dr. Xux. Arranged for a pickup, oversaw it myself, to make sure the Princess Leia knew what they’d gotten.”

“How did Keera not know what you’d done?” Valin asked.

“I made it look like Nellith had just escaped. Which, was pretty much what happened.” Zekk crossed one leg over the other, and he stared at his bootlaces for a moment. “Thea— she won’t got prying in my head. Or she didn’t. She trusted me too much.”

She could sense his guilt. Just because the actions were for the general good of he galaxy didn’t make them not hard to swallow.

“And now Nellith’s about to get brainwashed again, isn’t she?”

Zekk shrugged. “Or she’ll take Jacen’s place in the bargain.”

Allana’s blood ran cold. “Then it was for nothing!”

“Not nothing,” Valin assured her. “Jacen was our leader, before Nellith showed up.”

“I don’t think he’s in any shape to lead.”

They all turned to see Tahiri standing in the doorway.

“He’s asking for you, Allana.”

Allana nodded, and she got to her feet. She followed Tahiri into the bedchambers of the _Falcon_.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Master Solo kicked Kyp out of the cockpit. He’s now sulking in the gunner’s seat again.”

“Ah.” Allana nodded, and she entered the dark room. She already saw evidence that her father tended to her brother. All physical wounds were healed. But she could still see the faded blood stains.

Allana felt her heart go into her throat.

What had he suffered at their own sister’s hands?

“He’s been going in and out,” Tahiri said. “Master Solo and me— we think it’s spice or some sort of drug. Probably a hallucinogen, based on what he said when we found him.”

“I guess there’s nothing we can do but let him sleep it off?”

“Yeah, but he made me promise that we’d be here, you and I— he specifically asked for you,” Tahiri said. “Wanted to know that we weren’t going away.”

“Oh.” Allana approached his bedside, and took his hand. Jacen didn’t move or change at all. But she had a feeling it helped all the same.

But as she waited with Tahiri in the dark, she couldn’t help but think that for all they had gained, they had lost something equally precious.

She could only pray to Allya that the Force would offer some protection to the sister she left behind.


	19. A Thousand Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for a mild PG-rated torture sequence with Force lightning.

Nellith awoke with her hands shackled above her head in the room that they’d found Jacen in. Her jacket, scarf, and boots had been removed, just leaving her in her torn and dirty Hapan dress. Half her hair had fallen out of the three buns riding down her scalp, in memory of her mother.

Looming over her was the figure of her sister. Darth Keera had changed clothes in the interim of time since Nellith had been knocked unconscious.

The Empress of the Sith was dressed in a white silk nightgown, a matching lace dressing gown over it with the ties done as tightly as possible around the waist. Her saber-staff hung on the sash, a disturbing reminder of why her sister would always be dangerous. Even with the black curls loose and girlish, barefoot and vulnerable, her sister still had those yellow Sith eyes.

“I was wondering when you would wake, dear sister.” Her voice was still lyrical and like the sound of a river running over stones merrily. The dark side had not changed that she sounded like the woman Nellith wished was standing in front of her.

“Cut the crap, Thea, you and I both know you used the Force to revive me, just the same as you used it to put me to sleep.”

Darth Keera raised an eyebrow, then clucked her tongue. “I do not go by that name anymore. This attitude will grow tiresome for the both of us. I suggest you retire it, before it causes unpleasant consequences.”

Nellith wouldn’t. It was all she had left. Either way, live or die from here, her life was forfeit. She would die, or become a slave to Keera again.

If it was all going away, anyway, she might as well try to fight back, futile as it was.

There was hope in such a gesture.

_Wasn’t there?_

“You’ve done badly, my Hand,” Darth Keera crooned. She knelt down, and placed her pale fingers under Nellith’s chin, forcing her to meet those cold yellow eyes. “I now understand that my lover was not as faithful as I’d believed. No matter. He will be retrieved and punished for his actions, before he will come to love me again.”

“Zekk does love you,” Nellith hissed. “He never wanted you to become this.”

“Shh, with the childish talk.” Darth Keera examined her in eerie silence for a moment. “He has removed your memories of your time under me. No matter. That will be an easy place to start.”

Her other hand hovered inches above her forehead.

Nellith flinched, eyes screwing shut. She couldn’t stand just the knowledge of what she’d done, much less the memory of the acts and whatever torture she’d undergone at Thea’s hands—

But they never came.

Confused, Nellith opened her eyes.

Darth Keera wrinkled her nose, and made a more forceful gesture, and starting to repeat it.

Nellith gasped. Her head started to feel as if someone were beating her forehead with a battering ram, crushing her temples.

She let out a scream just as Darth Keera shoved into her brain, and was greeted by a recoil in the Force. She quickly picked herself up off of the ground, and let out a snarl.

“Why can’t I enter your head?”

Darth Keera didn’t wait for the answer that Nellith didn’t have. Black lightning sprang from her fingertips. Nellith screamed and writhed as much as she could in the shackles.

Darth Keera screamed back at her as the lightning intensified— Nellith didn’t think that possible— and Nellith thought her sister would kill her in this rage.

Then with a single gesture, Darth Keera slammed the back of Nellith’s head against the wall with the Force. She panted, and then pushed her curls back, pinning the disheveled ones out of sight.

She smiled. “I suppose we’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way. Fine by me. Since I can’t get my Hand back, I suppose I will just have to cut my losses.”

This was where Nellith had hoped it would go. Execution was preferable to becoming the Empress’s Hand again. Still, her pulse quickened in her chest.

“Ben Solo and Rey Skywalker will come for their children, at least one of them will,” Darth Keera promised. “The only ones with the power to stop me. And they won’t. Because my Academy has been training to take them on. They aren’t gods. They will fall to the might of the dark side.”

Darth Keera then tilted her head. “It really is a pity that mighty Skywalker blood must be spilled. But I cannot have my plans ruined. I just cannot.”

And then Nellith was in a world of pain.


	20. Twin Bonds

Jacen sat with Allana in the little port-seat of the complex on Coruscant. His gaze was still distant as it was when he first opened his eyes on the _Falcon_.

They’d arrived at the new Jedi base on Coruscant the evening prior. Everyone welcomed the return of Allana, Valin, Tahiri, Jacen, Kyp, and Ben. But no one seemed to notice Nellith’s absence.

“Don’t expect too much on that front,” Valin whispered after dinner, when Allana tried to bring up her twin’s name. “We had a lot of encounters with her when she was dark across the galaxy.”

And yet Allana kept trying to reach out to her, to try to offer her some message or power or protection. Anything, just to know that she wasn’t alone, that Allana refused to let her be alone.

“Jaina’s gone,” Jacen finally said. He looked confused. “She— she reached out to me, when she died. But I thought—“

His shoulders shook.

“I thought it was another one of Thea’s tricks.” He closed his eyes, and placed his head in his hands. “She died calling out for me and I failed her. She must hate me.”

“She doesn’t,” Allana assured him as she hugged him. “We found Dad on Ahch-To— he was waiting for all of us there, all this time, it seems— and I entered a cave with a strong connection to the dark side.”

“It allowed you to speak with the dead?” Jacen sat up, brandy-brown eyes wide open.

“Well, just Jaina, so far.” There was one dead face she had hoped to see— one that she’d known since the night of the Second Purge would be among the shades. “And she wanted us to come find and rescue you. She also had a message.”

“What was it?”

“She loves you very much,” Allana said.

“Of course she’d only be sappy when she’s dead and can’t die of embarrassment,” Jacen chuckled.

Allana let out a light exhale in the sort of sad-humor way. “She helped me connect back to the Force. I guess on that night, after Anakin died. . . I cut myself off from it entirely. I didn’t know it, but all this time everyone was trying to contact me, reach out— but I’d been shutting everyone and everything out.”

“This isn’t your fault, you know.” Jacen took her hand. “I just— we should have gone back for Nellith. We should save her.”

“Valin says they probably won’t, because everyone ran into her so much back when she was the Empress’s Hand.”

Jacen shook his head. “Valin might be one of my best friends, but he can be really dense about some things.”

“Like what?”

“I forgave her a long time ago.” Jacen looked off into the stars above. “I was angry with her, how she tricked me at first. But Nellith, for some reason, always came to visit me, and I always tried to talk her out of what she was doing, tried to convince her to save me.”

“Zekk said she was slowly changing.” Another piece clicked into place for Allana. “You must’ve been what changed her mind. What caused him to deliver her in a cryogenic box to the New Republic. You did save her, at first.”

“But then we lost her.”

The two of them were solemn and quiet again.

Then Kyp darted in.

“Allana— you’ve got to come see this,” he said.

“Just give me a minute—“ Jacen started to stand, but Kyp gently pushed him back into the seat.

“Don’t worry about it, she’ll be right back,” Kyp promised. “Remember— you need to relax.”

Jacen said nothing, although his eyes revealed how unhappy he truly was with that request. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

“Yes— but— it’s been a long time,” Allana said simply. “I’ll be right back, Jaysa— I promise.”

Jacen sighed and sank back into his chair at the childhood nickname. The one that mainly Jaina had used.

Allana then followed Kyp into the next room.

“What’s up?”

He pointed at the large holo screen the Jedi were crowded around.

It was Darth Keera again— the sound was off, but the Aubresh letters and the picture of her sister was enough to tell her what was going on.

“They’re using Nellith instead of Jacen.”

Ben then suddenly stood up. “No child of mine is dying today.”

“Wait, Dad, no—“

The Jedi swarmed one of their masters, begging and pleading with him not to go.

“We need you,” said Valin. “Sir— we’ve been looking for you all this time—“

“Who else will be able to stop Darth Keera—“

“Please, you’re our last hope—“

“STOP!”

Everyone turned to see Jacen walk through the doorway.

“We’re all sitting here trying to stop him from going?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “We should be going with him?”

“Jacen, buddy, what are you talking about?” Valin called out.

Jysella Horn elbowed her brother sharply in the ribs. “Yes, continue, Jacen?”

Jacen raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? We need to go save Nellith.”

“But she tried to attack us several times— ow, Jysella!”

“And she was working for the dark side when she lured you away from us, Knight Skywalker,” added Tyria Sarkin. “Who’s to say this isn’t another trick?”

“It isn’t.” Allana spoke, her words like Padme Amidala’s cutting through all other sound like the light of a star cut through atmospheres. “My sister was returned to us by Zekk, with the influence of Darth Keera removed. She went on the mission to save Jacen to atone for her actions, even if she could not remember them and most likely does not bear true responsibility.”

“We’re Jedi,” Jacen cried exasperatedly into the now-silent room. “We’re supposed to be better than revenge and leaving people to die. What kind of Jedi are we, if we don’t forgive?”

The next words came from Ben.

“What kind of Jedi would Rey want you to be?”

Realization sank into the hearts of all of the Jedi as they realized what the next steps were.

“We’re going to save Nellith, and show the galaxy that the Jedi are done hiding and running,” Allana declared. “And after that? We’ll reclaim our place on Tatooine, and rebuild the Praxeum! Who’s with us?”

A cheer rose from the Jedi.

Allana looked to Jacen, who smiled and nodded. “We’e got some work to do, and we’ve got to move fast, if we want to pull it off. May the Force be with us all.”


	21. The Executioner

Nellith never surrendered in the week that had passed since she’d been marked for death. Try as Darth Thea might, she could not recover the information of where Nellith had found the Jedi, or where Allana had been all those years.

In fact, Nellith had been defiant, spitting in the face of her captor, taunting her. For all her efforts, she’d been slapped and shocked with more lightning— but what did it matter?

Nellith was going to die anyway.

It was a surprise to her when on the morning of her scheduled execution, Darth Keera entered. She looked almost herself again.

“Wake up, sister,” she cried in sing-song. “We have to get you ready for today.”

Nellith felt the shackles on the wall. She rubbed her wrists, letting circulation flow back in. They’d been on and off throughout the week— but more often on than off.

She stared daggers up at her sister. “What do you want? Why don’t you just kill me here, if you’re going to do it?”

“You never did understand politics.” Darth Keera rolled her eyes. “Come on, we need to pick out your dress!”

Her sister then giddily pulled Nellith up by the wrist and into her private bedroom. She practically threw Nellith down on her large bed, holding her there with the Force as she flung open the doors to her ginormous closet.

“I think blue would suit you well— but white looks so much better on the HoloNet, wouldn’t you agree?”

“What?” Nellith couldn’t hide her surprise or disgust. “You’re murdering me in front of the galaxy— this isn’t some gala or ball? You do know that, don’t you?”

Darth Keera stopped. Her breathing became rapid, and she turned.

Just for a second, her eyes were no longer— rather the same hazel as their mother’s—-

But as soon as it came, it was gone. Darth Keera lifted Nellith up with the Force into the air, and slammed her down onto the floor, before the paralysis set in again.

“I think the blue would be right, after all.”

She then pulled out a simpler gown than the rest of what was in that wardrobe.

What ensued was perhaps one of the most normal things to happen since Nellith had awoken from the box, from the Second Purge.

Darth Keera styled her hair to allow an exposed neck, did her makeup, and helped her into her dress. If Nellith tried, she could block out all else and pretend it was the old days.

But now she was certain— Thea Organa was never coming back.

* * *

She was more certain of the fact when her hands were cuffed behind her back and Darth Keera looked her over one last time.

“You’ll look beautiful,” Darth Keera said as she touched Nellith’s face.

Nellith shuddered under her sister’s gloved hands.

“It truly is a pity you couldn’t return to my side.” Darth Keera sighed. “But your old self— she would appreciate that you were able to help me advance my empire.”

What sort of monster had Nellith been?

But she was out of time to wonder these sorts of things. Darth Keera, surrounded by elite stormtroopers in scarlet armor, was the first to emerge on the balcony.

Crowded into the large stone courtyard were all of the inhabitants of the Royal City who could be there. Elsewhere under the Remnant’s rule, the HoloNet provided a livestream.

Darth Keera stood tall and proud as the stormtroopers provided an execution block.

“Tonight, we execute a traitor to our cause— one of Skywalker blood.”

The stormtroopers behind Nellith pushed her forward. She stood beside her sister, all eyes on her.

Sith and apprentices and Hands were among stormtroopers throughout the crowd.

There was no escape possible for her. Not without a weapon.

As Darth Keera droned on, in what was undoubtedly some rousing speech, Nellith was forced down onto her knees, and her head on the block. She shivered as she was forced to watch the crowd, watching her in a sick loop.

Then all sound faded out, the crowd became shadows. In the center of Nellith’s vision was Jaina Solo. Not blue, but in full color— yet still translucent.

“Hang on, Nell.”

Jaina then looked over her shoulder, and if Nellith squinted, she could see a figure she had not seen since the Purge.

“Mum?” Nellith whispered.

“Nellith— are you— wait—“ Rey stood up, wherever she was, throwing a flimsi book down. “Are you—“

“No time for explanations,” Jaina said. “You’ve still got my lightsaber, right?”

“I didn’t have time to bury it.” Rey pulled a familiar silver cylinder out of a pouch around her waist. “But what use will this do from—“

“I got this— at least, I think I do.” Jaina knitted her eyebrows together, and she reached for the lightsaber— taking it from Rey.

Faintly, Nellith could hear the sound of a lightsaber being ignited above her.

“I give you the title that I was given when I was alive,” Jaina whispered. “I name you Sword of the Jedi.”

Nellith felt the cylinder in her hands and she ignited the indigo blade, and swung up. The lightsaber cut through the cuffs, and blocked her sister’s swing. Nellith managed to stand, although she ripped the hem of the long blue gown. She held up the saber, dropping into a fighting stance.

Sith Hands and apprentices ignited their own red lightsabers in response.

Nellith’s heart pounded at the idea of fighting all of them.

Then she saw it— like a lens focusing. People in gray and brown and black hoods threw those hoods down and ignited their own lightsabers.

Yellow, orange, green, blue, white, purple, pink—-

A rainbow of support.

The Jedi were there— they’d come for her.

Nellith looked back to Darth Keera just in time to block her swing.

And as she did so, she felt Jaina’s hand on her shoulder, her energy pulsing through her veins as she parried and struck and blocked.

Jaina’s voice then whispered into her ear. Nellith knew them— the words that Rey had used to knight Jaina at her ceremony, before she went to Chandrila.

_“I name you Sword of the Jedi.”_

Darth Keera switched on the second blade of the saber-staff.

_“You are like tempered steel, purposeful and keen.”_

Nellith blocked the first blade, then jumped over the second, tapping into her own power, and that of her sister’s.

_“Always, you shall be in the front rank—“_

Nellith turned and struck, matching the first blade in a stalemate. Using the Force, she turned off the second blade, and pushed Darth Keera back.

_“—A burning brand to your enemies—“_

Nellith did not advance on Darth Keera. Instead, with a precise struck, she cut the saber-staff in two.

_“—A brilliant fire to your friends.”_

That’s when Nellith saw Kyp, struggling with Brakiss behind her and Darth Keera.

While her sister was vulnerable, Nellith knew what was more important now.

She charged at Brakiss, and matched his lightsaber from behind, just as he was about to hit Kyp.

It gave Kyp enough time to swing his lightsaber, readying his strike.

“ _Yours is a restless life—_ “

Unfortunately, it gave Brakiss enough time to push her down with the Force. Nellith fell to the floor just as Darth Keera rose and pulled off her elbow-length gloves.

“— _And never shall you know peace—_ “

Nellith barely blocked her sister’s black lightning.

“— _though you shall be blessed for the peace you bring to others._ ”

With each word from Jaina, Nellith found the strength to stand. She glanced behind her shoulder, at Kyp. They shared a glance, and with it, a wordless communication.

“Take comfort that in the fact that, though you stand tall and alone, others take comfort in the shadow that you cast.”

At the same time, Kyp and Nellith pushed their Sith opponents with the Force.

Brakiss flew off of the platform, into the crowd as the citizens of Alderaan fled.

Darth Keera almost suffered the same, but she managed to grab the edge of the balcony, and was kicking desperately to get up.

For a moment, Nellith was tempted.

She could end it here.

But she knew her arrogance,this time. She turned to Kyp, and extinguished her lightsaber. “Come on, let’s go!”

She took his hand, and followed the stream of Jedi and civilians alike.

Jedi were urging civilians to get on the ships, as many as could be carried.

Nellith saw Jacen and Allana on the ramp of the Falcon, beckoning Kyp and Nellith to hurry.

TIEs and other strange Sith-like ships soared above, and Jedi transports started closing their doors and taking off into the sky.

The Falcon began liftoff procedures, and Jacen ran up, presumably to the turret.

“Come on, Skywalker,” Kyp panted, gripping Nellith’s hand more tightly. “We’re gonna have to jump.”

“Let’s do it, then!”

They ran, boosting each other with their power in a closed loop of strong energy.

Then, with everything they each had left, they leapt into the Falcon right before the door closed.

Nellith lay there for a moment as the Falcon leapt into hyperspace.

Then she looked at Kyp. “You came back for me.”

Something twinkled in his dark green eyes, but before he could say anything, Allana interrupted.

“We all did.” Allana then helped her sister to her feet. “Welcome home, sis.”

She then frowned. “Where did you get the lightsaber from?”

“Jaina— it’s a long story,” Nellith amended hastily at her sister’s confused look. “I saw her. I think I’m a Jedi Knight, now. She passed on her title to me.”

“The Sword of the Jedi.”

Everyone looked to Jacen, who smiled sadly. “We’re happy to have another one of those, in our ranks. I have a feeling you’ll be needed.”


	22. Binary Sunset

Allana ducked into the cockpit as the Falcon jumped out of hyperspace. They’d have to refuel soon— good thing that with the advent of the Jedi making their Praxeum on Tatooine, there were plenty of refueling stations around Mos Eisley.

She thought her heart might skip a beat as she watched the desert she’d grown up in come into view.

“Home, sweet home.”

Allana looked to see Nellith entering beside her.

“Hold onto something,” Ben ordered. “Should be a smooth landing.”

And indeed it was.

The _Millennium Falcon_ was the first of the Jedi ships to return to the Praxeum. All of the other ships were taking a necessary detour to refuel and drop off the rescued civilians on Chandrila. Finn and Rose would know how to help them.

It was just a pity, Allana thought, that they couldn’t save more.

Then again, she thought as she looked to Nellith beside her and Jacen in front, she had retrieved what was left of her family. Even the droids and the Wookiee were back together.

And yet, D-0 and Rey were still missing.

Allana sighed. But from what Nellith had told her in the cargo hold, Rey was still alive— and on a mission of some sort.

Hopefully they could find her, soon.

* * *

Allana was the first of the Jedi to step foot on Tatooine after the Second Purge. The feeling of the sand beneath her feet and the sound of a desert coming to life with the sunset made her feel as if she were fourteen years old again.

The twin suns were starting their descent in the distance, turning the sky shades of periwinkle and violet.

While Ben and Chewbacca finished the landing sequences, Kyp, Nellith, Zekk, Jacen, and Tahiri exited the Falcon. Threepio and Artoo dawdled behind them, soon to join the Jedi outside the ruins of the Skywalker homestead.

Before Allana was born, the ruins looked like this. That was what Rey told her, once. For a long time, Rey was alone, and she had to rebuild the Jedi out of this.

But this time, they didn’t have to work alone. They had each other.

An echo from another time, another place, found its way into Allana’s ear.

“We have all we need.”

Allana smiled at the familiar voice. It was true.

There would be the matter of getting lightsabers for her and Jacen— and finishing her training. But she would become a Jedi Knight. She had to.

And she would do whatever it took to assume her great destiny.

Whatever it meant, to sit on the throne of balance.

The rest of the galaxy might not have cared about the Jedi in their time of need, but now they had hope. They’d found it in themselves.

And as the darkness fell, Allana could spot translucent blue figures watching them.

There was a woman wearing rags that Allana recognized as Shmi from the old holos. Next to her was a young man that could only be Anakin Skywalker, his arm around Padme Amidala. The queen still dressed flamboyantly, even in death.

Obi-Wan, with his distinctive beard, nodded his approval at the Jedi. As did Luke and Leia, restored to the youth of their Yavin days.

Han’s ghost smirked at his grandchildren, and he gave a joking salute.

Jaina rolled her eyes and smiled.

And then, Anakin shuffled forward.

The gasps from the other Jedi told her that they saw him too. She fought to keep back tears.

There were so many things she wanted to tell him. That they loved him. That she wished she could have saved him. That she was sorry.

He just met her with a calm hazel gaze and nodded. There was melancholy and yearning there. But the message was understood.

The other Jedi would come soon, and there would be work to do. The future would have to come, relentless as it does.

But for that moment, the past was alive in the quiet. It was enough.


	23. Hearts of Kyber

In the weeks that followed the rebuilding of the Praxeum, the Jedi took shelter in the Kenobi house. Rey had preserved the home of the old Jedi Master when she first was on Tatooine, and used it as an archives vault. All possessions and holocrons that they wanted in a separate location for emergency purposes were here.

After all, the Kenobi homestead was just far enough from the Skywalker Praxeum to discourage marauders and robbers.

And, apparently, the likes of the Imperial Remnant.

Ben and the other Jedi Masters were amazed at what was still left.

One of them included the chest of materials for making a lightsaber.

“You’ll want to make one of your own,” Ben said. “Before we send you out on your next mission. You won’t last long against the Sith and the Hands if you’ve only got a blaster pistol.”

Allana’s jewelry-clad hand reached unconsciously for the gilded Hapan pistol in her holster. Considering that was why she was left out of the ground assault on New Alderaan, she had to admit that her father had a point.

“Can I use the materials in Master Kenobi’s chest?”

“What did you think I was going to ask you to use?” Ben raised both of his eyebrows.

“Didn’t Jaina literally grow her crystals in her bedroom?”

“Normally we have our Padwans take care of the crystals they’ll use to assemble their lightsabers,” Ben admitted. “But we don’t have the luxury of that kind of time.”

“Yeah,” Nellith said from where she lay in a hammock, tossing her own lightsaber into the air and catching it. “It took Jacen, like, months to find his crystal.”

“I was waiting for a lightning storm.” Jacen blushed. “Desert sand crystals are really good if you can’t use kyber—“

“That’s not the point,” Ben interrupted. “We have work to do, and time is of the essence. Every second we spend bickering about kyber crystals or how Jedi training should be done is another second that we don’t know where your mother is!”

Nellith, Jacen, and Allana shared a look with raised eyebrows.

“Fine, Dad, I’ll get on the lightsaber building.” Allana smiled. “I guess I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She then headed into one of the entrances beneath the Kenobi house. This was where the lightsaber materials were. Indeed, some mechanical parts and the like, as well as extra crystals that had been retrieved by older Jedi for extra or future lightsabers had been added to Obi-Wan Kenobi’s original collection.

There was plenty for Allana to use to craft her lightsaber.

She planted her hands on her hips, looking at it all. She was overwhelmed by the sheer number of options— where would she even begin?

She supposed the design would be the best place to start. What kind of lightsaber did she even want to have?

Then it popped into her head. After reading legends of the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic, she’d dreamed of holding a double-bladed yellow lightsaber like Bastila Shan.

As in, the saber-staff literally appeared in her dreams alongside the mysterious throne and the shifting faces of the strange-yet-familiar and those she knew.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt it was right. Yes, she needed a double-bladed yellow lightsaber. That meant she would need two matching crystals.

She looked into the large durosteel tub of crystals, and pulled out two. She inspected them for size, and any flaws, but they seemed about right for the job.

Nodding in satisfaction, Allana took a step back and pocketed the crystals.

Now it was on to machines and the like. Allana heaved a sigh in anticipation of the work required ahead of her. She’d never had Nellith, Jaina, or Anakin’s inclinations towards mechanics. Sure, she knew a few tricks on how to keep a speeder running, but to make one? She knew some small-time slicing techniques, like bypassing a forgotten password on some chatroom, but nothing major.

That was for her other siblings.

Still, it was in some ways, kind of nice to be spending an afternoon by herself, working on this giant puzzle that was the mechanical construction of her lightsaber.

While she missed the fashions and the friendships of Hapes, she didn’t exactly miss all of the history and politics. She liked learning such things— it was just that on Hapes, it was a constant reminder that she did not truly belong there. It was a reminder that she was in a pit of vipers.

Some assimilated as much as they had to, like Teneniel and Tenel Ka.

But a part of Allana wanted to refuse to assimilate at all, if she could help it. Hapan history was drenched in its own blood, in horrible acts of murder and betrayal and machinations and manipulations.

At least the life of a Jedi was honest. It wasn’t easy— neither was being a princess of Hapes— but it was filled with deception. As a Jedi, she wouldn’t have to play the head games.

She would have to go back to Hapes someday. If Sansa ever got in the presence of Tenel Ka, it would be all over. Because she had once trained as a Jedi, and once was a Knight of Ren alongside Ben Solo, she could sense the true identities of all of the handmaidens.

They’d never be able to fool her.

Besides, it was about more than that, Allana decided as she took out silver pieces of durosteel to use for the cylinder of her saber-staff.

She’d sworn an oath to Tenel Ka when she’d come to the Queen Mother for help. After all, Tenel Ka had only ever mentioned her lack of a daughter once. It was Allana who had suggested the whole idea in the first place.

After all, she was powerless, and felt at her lowest, at that point. She would have done anything to have a sense of purpose again, so she did.

Now Allana had an abundance of purposes. To help stop her eldest sister. To carry on Tenel Ka’s legacy of progress and justice on Hapes. To fulfill whatever strange and magnificent destiny haunted her dreams.

There was so much to do. While Allana was ready and her blood was screaming for her to be out and saving the galaxy, she could sense that she wouldn’t feel that way forever.

It wouldn’t be for several years, at least, but eventually she would tire of all there was for her to do in this galaxy.

How long would she be able to bear it? Could she at least do it all justice?

Allana wasn’t sure.

After all, what if she wasn’t truly ready for any of this.

Allana sighed again as she fastened the last bolt into place. She scrambled to her feet, and held her saber-staff aloft.

Then she pressed the first trigger knob. A bright golden yellow sprang from one end of the lightsaber. And then came the other.

Allana tried a few basic swings. The blade was steady, strong. It would get the job done.

Just like she would, she realized as she turned it off.


	24. The Compass

“Yellow, like your mother,” Ben murmured. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Allana shrugged as she turned off the blade again. “But that’s beside the point. I believe you said earlier that you have a mission for me, when I’m ready?”

“Yes.” Ben gestured for her to follow him outside of the Kenobi house. The _Falcon_ was a large shadow in the desert night, blocking out the twin moons that also passed over Tatooine.

Then the loading ramp descended, letting light flood out, and with it, Valin Horn.

“The Jedi Masters held a council last night,” Ben began. “We all came to an agreement. The next best course of action is to find Rey and bring her home.”

“Why can’t you find her?” Allana asked. “Don’t you have that bond—“

“I can’t see her surroundings,” Ben reminded her. “And she keeps closing the bond before she’ll tell me where she is.”

“Are we sure we should be looking for her, then?” Valin asked. “It sounds like she doesn’t want to be found.”

“She’s making a plan of some sort, on how to save Thea,” Ben said. “I don’t know all the details— but at the very least we can help her with the plan if we know where to find her.”

“So how are are we going to go about doing that?” Allana asked.

“That’s where the two of you come in,” Ben said. “Chewbacca’s agreed to stay here for the moment, as he wants to help us with the repairs, and we could use his strength. You two will take Artoo and the _Falcon_ and go to Jakku.”

“That junkyard?” Valin cried.

“I thought Mum said Jakku was pretty much nowhere, with nothing important.” Allana wrinkled her nose.

“There is something of value besides old Star Destroyers and ships,” Ben promised. “I know you’ve studied a lot of history, Allana. You know about some of the Emperor’s projects, don’t you?”

“Observatories, vaults, hidden research stations, of course.” Allana could recite it from the screen of one of her Holo texts. “They were all near sites of interest to the Empire, because of hidden lore or strong connections to the Force—“

She paused. “Jakku has a legend about it, I now remember. One that Mum used to tell us when we were little. That Jakku used to be green, and a lush planet like Naboo. But one day, it all just died. Some say it was a curse, for some act that’s been lost to time. But now Jakku is a cold desert.”

“There’s a little more to the story than that, but you’ve got the gist.” Ben nodded approvingly. “The Emperor investigated the legend and found a large Force nexus. He built his observatory there, nearby. New Republic excavators couldn’t get everything in the observatory once it was abandoned. Some of it had doors that were locked, that could not be undone by even the most dedicated of slicers.”

“So some Sith sorcery was used.” Valin jumped in, eyes lighting up. “We need to unlock it, then.”

“What if they’re meant to prevent anyone who wasn’t Darth Sidious from entering?” Allana asked. “The archaeologists are running into that problem all the time at the Valley of the Sith right now.”

Ben shook his head. “That won’t be a problem for you.”

“Why not?”

Ben hefted a sigh. “There was one thing that Rey and I always disagreed on, on how to raise you and your sisters and brothers. Do you remember what I told you about my discovery that Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one and the same?”

“You were twenty-three, sir,” Valin chimed in. “You found out from the HoloNet after Leia Organa was publicly revealed as Vader’s daughter—“

“Yes.” Ben cut him off, closing his eyes. “That was a major point in my fall to darkness. I hated that I’d been lied to, and that no one would ever look at me the same way again. . .”

He then opened his eyes. “But that’s not the point. I wanted to make sure you never had to go through that. I told you about Vader because I never wanted to lie about the Skywalker burden.”

“What does this have to do with Mum, though?” Allana asked. “She has no family, and she took the Skywalker name when she married you.”

“That’s jumbling up the sequence of events a little,” Ben said. “She took the Skywalker name in defiance of her real family. She didn’t discover it until I told her.”

“Well, then where was she from?” Allana wished that her father would stop beating around the bush and would just get down to business.

“Her grandfather was Darth Sidious himself, her grandmother was the famous Ysanne Isaard.” Ben sighed again. “I wanted to tell you— but Rey never did. She said it didn’t matter, that it wasn’t a legacy she would accept. But it’s time for you to know now, and I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” was all that Allana could say. “So she was lying when she said she was a nobody?”

“Not really— well, it’s complicated,” Ben finally said. “We can talk about that later. The main thing is, I found the trail of the Sunrider, and its last flight was on Jakku. That was all that the spaceport data box would reveal.”

“So Mum went to Jakku before wherever she went.” Allana recognized the name of her mother’s personal ship— named after the Jedi mother and grandmaster of legend. “We go there, look for clues, and see if great-grandpa Palpatine left us anything useful?”

“Yes.” Ben reached into a hidden pocket in his cloak. “This is a compass Luke took from one of the observatories he raided— it belonged to Palpatine himself. I don’t know if it will be important or not— but I have a feeling it could help you on your journey.”

“Thank you.” Allana placed it in her own pocket. For the second that she held it, however, it was heavier than she expected.

But she could sense it wasn’t a physical difference, no.

There was a residue in the Force, for a lack of a better word.

“Interesting,” Valin said. “Don’t worry, Master Solo, I’ll make sure Allana gets back here safe and sound.”

Allana rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself just fine, Valin. I’d rather you worry about yourself.”

Ben coughed awkwardly. “There’s Artoo.”

The droid rolled in, swearing in Binary with a vulgarity that never failed to make Valin or any of the other Jedi raise their eyebrows.

However, Allana was used to it, and in fact learned creative bits of Hapan and Huttese insults.

“Nice to see you, too, rust bucket,” Allana teased. “I guess we should get going, then, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes, I have one more thing.” Ben tossed several packets of New Republic rations to Valin. “Jannah Calrissian sent these. Says they’re the best rations in the New Republic military.”

“Where did Aunt Jannah get her hands on these?” Allana asked. “Isn’t she still busy running Asteroid City?”

“She has her contacts— I suspect Maz Kanata may also have something to do with it,” Ben admitted. “I’m guessing you have a datachip with access to Hapan credits?”

“Yes, and my old account from the New Republic Security Union,” Allana assured him. “We’ll have money.”

“Why aren’t you going with us, Master Solo, sir?” Valin asked.

“I have to work with the Jedi Masters here,” Ben said. “And I want to oversee Jacen’s recovery personally.”

Allana nodded in understanding.

Her brother, as much as he tried to fake it, wasn’t really alright. He still had nightmares, would still stare off into corners sometimes, and complained of phantom pains.

Even when he talked to them, Allana suspected that there was some part of him that none of them would ever reach, a depth in his brown eyes.

“May the Force be with you, then,” Valin said awkwardly. He then went up the loading ramp, clutching the abundance of rations packs.

Allana stared at her father a moment as even Artoo left them.

“Make sure to comm if you have any problems.” Ben said. “I worry about you.”

“I love you, Dad,” Allana said.

“I know.”

They then hugged, and parted. Allana walked up the loading ramp and into the cockpit of the _Falcon_. It was time for another adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucasfilms needs to stick to their guns. The Palpatine’s failed clone was Rey’s father thing is stupid. In this, Rey’s grandmother is Ysanne Isaard, a Legends character who was one of the main Imperial women who led in the military and was a lover of the Emperor’s, I believe. It gives Rey a nice dark side pedigree, and makes that backstory more interesting. 
> 
> Jannah is supposed to canonically be Lando’s long lost daughter according to the dictionary for TROS. Funny enough, that was actually foreshadowed by Battlefront II, where Palpatine has a line about the tragedy of the Calrissian family. I have no idea why they didn’t just say it, but it is supposed to be canon, I believe.


	25. Star Maps

Nellith’s dreams haunted her into waking. Images of maps in planets that were all as familiar to her as a memory, they remained with her even when her eyes were open.

She found herself looking to the stars the next night as she crawled into her hammock, trying to connect the routes that were there, right behind the vision that was physical and tangible.

Of course, this resulted in her falling out of said hammock with a crash.

“Nellith!”

She sensed her brother and father before the footsteps came as she scrambled to her feet.

“Are you alright?” Jacen asked.

“Just distracted, sorry.” Nellith tucked a curl out of her face. “It’s nothing— I wouldn’t worry about it. I just keep thinking about these dreams. . .”

“Dreams?” Ben’s voice was quiet, but it still cut through the night like a vibroblade.

“Of these maps.” Nellith turned to arrange her things on the windowsill, right in front of the rapidly-cooling transparisteel. “I keep seeing them, on these old consoles. I touch them— it’s as clear as a memory, as if I’d been there and found these maps—“

Jacen and Ben exchanged a look.

“Do you think you could have been there?” Ben asked.

Nellith shrugged, looking to Jacen. “You’d have a better idea than I would.”

The light in Jacen’s eyes faded, and something dark and cold flashed over his face. The microexpression was gone as soon as it came, as fleeting as a shadow.

“You were gone a lot.” He was quieter, his tone flat, the words rushing out, as if they had to go, or else— “You could have gone looking for some maps or treasures.”

“I wonder why it’s coming back to me now.” Nellith ran a hand through her hair, absent-mindedly pinning the dark curls to the side of her head.

“It must be important, if it’s breaking through the job Zekk pulled,” Jacen said. His eyes were lighter again, as he folded his arms over his chest and smiled. Yet the smile did look a little forced. . .

“We can pursue this in the morning,” Ben promised. “I’m not trying to dismiss this—“

“No, I understand.” Nellith let her hair fall back around her face like a curtain. “I just— I wonder if when I dream, I’ll remember more of what happened.”

“I’m sure you will.” Jacen said it as if it were a good thing.

But even when Nellith had first awakened from the box in Hapan space, she knew that it wouldn’t be.

She could also see that Ben knew that, too, in his brown eyes. Her father’s gaze softened.

“Get some sleep.” His voice was gentle. “We’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”

When Nellith drifted off, however, she found that Jacen’s words were prophecy.

* * *

_Nellith Skywalker’s boots crunched on the twigs of the underbelly of Kashyyyk. The branches snagged on the rough fabric of the pants she wore, scratched at her face, tugged at her hair._

_And yet she paid it no mind. As if bewitched, under a trance of some sort, she felt no pain in pursuit. It was not one that involved running and chasing._

_Oh, no. This involved stalking her prey. Even though that prey had not moved once in a thousand generations, as it was a piece of machinery, an ancient artifact with Sith magicks of some sort._

_Then again, one should always keep her guard up when dealing with the Sith. Even if she was now an ally to them, unwillingly. For the Sith are betrayers at heart._

_Inside, a part of her screamed and railed against the movement of her body, ceaseless and unrelenting as she continued forwards._

_There she stood in front of the ancient console. The craftsmanship revealed painstaking detail, the screen cracked— but still useable, Nellith decided, in a quite mechanical manner. Detached from the part of her trying to break free from her sister’s grip—_

_Then Nellith knelt down to where lay a mask— one that resembled the one in the holos, that her father used to wear. This one was older— and also recognizable, to many historians on Corellia and elsewhere in the galaxy._

_The word was on Nellith’s lips as she awakened, linking her past and present together in a shared moment of time._

_“Revan.”_

* * *

Nellith’s eyes flew open, and she heard the name she mumbled, unsure for a second of what it meant. Revan was a familiar term to her, that was for certain.

She’d known what it had meant in the three forgotten years. For all her trouble, straining against the invisible iron walls around her memory, she could not break through.

Then again, she realized as she sat up in the hammock, she might not want to remember.

Not for the first time, a part of her wanted to remember those years. Even though the thought of the guilt and responsibility that would be on her shoulders sent her heart racing, she knew it would be better if she could be accountable for what her sister forced her to do.

But she might never truly move on, if she fully remembering the intervening years. Already, it was so hard to even attempt a facade at her own self. Others who had joined her on the journey to rescue Jacen knew that.

But the majority of the Order? Even though they knew the truth about Nellith, they were willing to believe that she was a plucky Skywalker heroine again.

She wanted to believe it, too. She just had to find a way back to that girl.

She would have to leave that girl behind completely, however, if she were to recover any of her memories of the lost years.

Nellith looked to the stars. They’d shifted in position to the twin moons from the cycle of the night. She sighed and lifted her datapad from where it lay face-down on the window shelf.

She couldn’t sleep, so she might as well look it up.

So she did, finding quickly the archives of historians. Specifically, Jedi historians that were not members of the Order.

Those still did exist. And with a figure like Revan Shan, it was no wonder that there were those without the Force that studied and remembered him still.

She had been looking for something of great importance that was associated with the figure of the light and the dark.

Whatever it was, Nellith realized, she had to do everything in her power to make sure it did not remain in the hands of Darth Keera.

* * *

When the twin suns rose on Tatooine the next morning, Nellith was the first to approach her father.

“I want to put together a crew.”


	26. Hellhound Two

All Allana Skywalker knew about her mother’s childhood was that she’d lived in a tipped over AT-AT known as the _Hellhound Two_. Having been lucky enough to only see the war machinery in Holos or models or museums, she found it almost charming. Like one of those old holos for kids that Face Loran would be in.

Seeing the reality, however, felt completely different.

Allana had heard from her father that feelings and memories could remain in the Force, trapped in certain objects and places, like a sort of residue. That was the idea behind the masks that the Acolytes of the Beyond used.

The _Hellhound Two_ was another one of these places, Allana decided as she followed Valin under the canvas covering the doorway created by the missing bottom panel of the AT-AT. Loneliness pervaded the oxygen of the space, made Allana’s arms unnaturally cold.

The space was so small. How had her mother lived there for fourteen years? There was a hammock in the corner, the makeshift kitchen, and a few pots of attempts at preserving what greenery could be found on Jakku.

Allana stood on tip-toe to reach a shelf where there was a doll made of scraps. It resembled an X-wing pilot. Allana had one like it at home, one that her mother made for her as a little girl.

Rey had made this one for herself, Allana realized, her heart breaking at the thought.

“Hey, you gotta come take a look at this.”

Allana turned to see what Valin was talking about.

One wall of the AT-AT was covered in tally marks, going up the entirety of it.

“She was counting the days.” Allana reached out to feel the metal and the cut ridges. “She’d done it since—“

“Since she was first left here,” Valin said. “By her parents. I can’t imagine— if this was what it took to keep her safe—“

Allana shook her head. “I don’t believe that. No parent leaves their child in a place like this forever.”

Her parents had left her for a little while. But now, Allana had something to be grateful for. At least she wasn’t alone, in those years of exile.

At least she’d had companionship, had been cared for, and Tenel Ka had been watching out for her.

Allana’s stomach turned with guilt in memory of the trick that she and the handmaidens had played on her, were playing on her.

Tenel Ka didn’t deserve her heir to be running around the galaxy while a fraud stayed in her place.

“We should scout the perimeter.”

Valin’s voice tugged her out of her guilt and spiral of emotions. Her hand rested on her lightsaber hilt as she nodded.

“Let’s check it out, then.”

The outside of the AT-AT was empty, except for where an X-wing pilot lay, hidden against the foot of the formerly great war machine.

Allana knelt down to pick it up.

“This belonged to Dosmit Raeh.”

Allana thought that part was funny. Then the thought occurred to her— was Rey even really her mother’s name by birth? She was so young. . .

Allana set the helmet down, and stood. She could feel Valin’s eyes on her.

“I never knew,” she said simply. “I’d heard the stories— all of us had. But I don’t think any of us really understood what she went through.”

Allana could see it all now. She knew factually, why her mother tended to hoard food cans and overstocked the Praxeum’s pantry. Coruscanti psychologists could tell anyone that.

But she could feel it in the Force. Memories of a hungry and lonely young girl forced to fend for herself and for what?

That story, the justification, had to be different from what Allana grew up hearing, though. It had to be.

When she was still very little, young enough to be considered a youngling by galactic law, she’d noticed the lack of elders in her family.

Perhaps it was Valin and Jysella themselves and their mentioning of their great-grandfather, Hal Horn. Or maybe it was Tash Arranda speaking about how her grandmother survived Alderaan.

Either way, she’d once asked her mother why she didn’t have grandparents.

The Skywalker side was easy to explain— in fact, Allana had long since been aware of that part. Han and Leia had both died in the war— and Han’s death had something to do with her dad being the bad guy, once.

Allana wouldn’t learn more about that, later.

So Rey did re-explain about the fates of her paternal grandparents, and Allana waited patiently before asking her:

“But what about in your family?” Allana asked. “Didn’t you have parents too?”

Rey’s smile faltered, and her expression became quite cold.

“I did, but they don’t matter now.” There was something fierce, as if the words were supposed to be an assurance against a vague threat.

But Allana, at that tender age, had no idea what her mother’s words meant.

So she then asked her father.

“They weren’t good people,” Ben said. “They left her on Jakku alone. She wasn’t much younger than you. They had their reasons— but they weren’t good ones.”

When she was older, Ben once elaborated after Rey had avoided a party with alcohol in it that he was pretty sure her parents had sold her for alcohol.

Then again, Allana was pretty sure he’d been drinking the Corellian Firewhiskey by that point.

It couldn’t be as petty as what Ben had said though, Allana thought. Not if Palpatine was her great-grandfather. Was it that her maternal grandparents were evil? Had they left Rey for fun?

Or was it some kind of protection against other evils?

Rey had the answer to the question. Allana could sense that. But Rey wasn’t there— not anymore.

Allana sighed, pulling herself out of her memories yet again.

They were here to find clues to help find out what had happened. Allana stared off into the distance, as the sun began to sink on the Jakkuvian horizon.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to make it out to the observatory,” Valin admitted. “We’ll need to stay near here for tonight, probably on the _Falcon_.”

“Yeah.” Allana looked away from the horizon. “I guess I’ll heat up the rations Jannah got for us.”

She then walked past Valin, and returned to the Millennium Falcon.

* * *

“You know, it’s too bad you and Jysella haven’t really gotten to talk,” Valin said before biting into his portion of the rations. “She really missed you over the past three years.”

“Me too,” Allana admitted. “I wish I could have sent messages on the HoloNet, to let you know that I was alright—“

“But your survival had to be kept a secret, I understand,” Valin assured her. “At least we’re all together again. All of the Jedi that survived came to help your sister escape.”

Allana swallowed back a feeling of guilt. Who was she really to lead these people, in any capacity?

“We all missed you, by the way.” Valin reached out to touch the teal puffed sleeve of her jacket. “Not just Jacen and Jysella. And not just because of the prophecies—“

“I’m sure.” Allana set down her portions, no longer hungry. “I remember when those damned crystals were the most stressful part of my life. It was a vague promise of some big destiny ahead of me. But now, it doesn’t seem that bad. Every kid believes they’re gonna have some great future.”

“You’re a Skywalker,” Valin said seriously. “That means great things.”

“But not always good things,” Allana reminded him. “Thea did things that would be considered terrible and great.”

“You’d never be like Thea.”

Allana hesitated. “Sometimes, I don’t know about that. We’re not like the old Order, Valin. We’re not even like Luke’s Order, you know. The light and the dark is both inside of all of us, and we draw on both. I’m not some space angel, you know?”

Valin’s hazel gaze reminded Allana of before, when she was thirteen years old.

That was when she first saw her older brother’s best friend and her best friend’s brother as more than that. When she first realized that she was interested in boys and girls in a new way.

There was a time when Allana would have done anything to have Valin look at her like she was some space angel princess.

But while the princess part was accurate on two accounts, the space angel part wasn’t, even if she resembled Padme Amidala, who was allegedly as beautiful as one.

“I guess we should get to sleep,” Allana said. “We’ll have to share the bed, though.”

Valin’s face turned bright red. He stammered incomprehensibly.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about with just sleeping,” Allana informed him coolly as she started cleaning up after their makeshift meal. “Why, on Hapes, sometimes we’d sleep over in one another’s rooms, the handmaidens and I—“

“That’s different, and you know it,” Valin finally said. “It’s improper—“

Allana raised an eyebrow. “I’d argue it more improper to leave the princess of the most powerful faction not affiliated with the New Republic alone for an entire night on a barbaric wasteland planet.”

“If you’re worried about protection, I’ll sleep on the floor, no questions asked—“

“Fine.” Allana shrugged. “I just thought you’d prefer the bed, since it’s softer, warmer, and big enough that we can each take up our own end without touching.”

Valin’s redness had faded to a bright pink. “If that’s your wish, Your Grace.”

With that, he disappeared, presumably into the fresher.

Allana rolled her eyes. Boys could be such cowards about their feelings.


	27. Serenity

“Let me get this straight,” Ben said, once he had listened to all that Nellith had to say. “You found the Star Maps of Revan while you were the Hand of the Empress. You want to find out what happened to them, and retrieve them if you can. You then want to get a crew of Jedi, with your own ship, and go looking for them separate to what Allana’s doing right now?”

“Yes.” Nellith didn’t hesitate, planting her hands on her hips. “I want to help. I know that most of the Jedi think I’ve made up for what happened during the past three years when I volunteered to rescue Jacen— but I feel like I need to do more than that. Whatever I did to help Nellith— I want to undo as much as possible.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Jacen said, brandy-brown eyes darting from his father to Nellith, and back again. “I’ve never blamed you for what happened, anyone would tell you that she had you under a trance—“

“Service to evil is still evil,” Nellith reminded him. “And it’s not about you or anyone else. It’s about me, and what I have to do. You and Jaina felt it, when you were younger. Mum always said your blood was screaming to save the stars.”

“I think that was more Anakin than Jaina and I,” Jacen said. “But I remember, I guess, the kind of thing you’re talking about.”

“Yes,” Nellith enunciated carefully. “I have to do this. I’m the only one who found them in the last thousand years— no one else could tell you for sure if they’re gone, or what was in the Star-Maps. It has to be me.”

“Then let me go with you,” Jacen begged.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Ben shook his head.

“I’m not exactly fragile.” Jacen rolled his eyes. “And sitting here and sleeping and resting isn’t going to help me. That won’t make the nightmares or the last three years go away.”

“That’s not why—“

“I’ve been trying to prove that I can keep it together!” Jacen gestured wildly, furiously.

Ben placed his hand over his son’s shoulder. “Son, that’s exactly why I don’t want you going, not yet. Facades aren’t easy to keep up, and the longer you keep it up, the bigger the mess will be when you finally lose control.”

Jacen lowered his arm, and stepped out of his father’s grasp.

“I want to help.” He echoed Nellith’s words, looking straight at her.

She understood in a heartbeat, remembering how she felt after coming out of the box she’d been frozen in. Then again, when the feelings finally did crash down on her, it resulted in her getting captured.

But she couldn’t deny Jacen the same chances she’d been begging for just a week ago.

“Only if Tahiri comes with us.”

“Did someone say Tahiri Veila?” The blonde Jedi peeked around the corner of the doorway precipice.

“We’re going on a mission to find the lost Star-Maps of Revan,” Nellith explained. “We’re building a crew. Do you want to come?”

Tahiri glanced at Jacen, before her eyes returned to Nellith. “We’ve been apart so long, it wouldn’t be fair for me to say no.”

Jacen smiled at her— as brilliantly as he did three year ago, before everything became awful. For a moment, that smile let Nellith pretend that everything was okay and that Jaina and Anakin were alive that Rey was here and Thea never turned to the dark side.

But all too soon, Nellith returned to the present.

She could hear her mother’s voice, encouraging her with a bit of wisdom she’d learned from her hard life on Jakku, on another desert far from this one.

“We must do what we can, with the time that is given to us.”

Nellith nodded, more to herself than anyone else, and thought to who else she wanted to invite.

“Is Tionne still with us?” Nellith asked.

“She and Kam are needed here, to help rebuild the Praxeum.” Ben shook his head. “Tionne’s main priority is to care for the younglings. Some of our Jedi have returned with bigger families than before. However, her apprentice might be willing to come.”

“Tash.” Nellith nodded her approval. While she’d always been closer to Carren than most of the other Jedi her age, Tash had been one of the ones she’d liked the most. The descendant of an Alderaanian Jedi line had been an expert slicer and dedicated historian, which had made Tionne Soulsar come begging Ben and Rey for the girl to be made her apprentice.

“I’ll go ask her,” Tahiri said. She then paused. “Is there anyone else we want to bring?”

“If Mirax and Corran will allow it, Jysella would be a good addition,” Ben added. “She never got apprenticed, but she has the chance to be a great Jedi, like the rest of her family, if given the chance.”

While Jysella had been closer to her twin growing up, Nellith couldn’t disagree. She’d always seen her as a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, just like her brother. Then again, having a lightsaber with some special crystal that meant you had to be pure of heart to wield it didn’t exactly help that image.

“Anyone else?” Tahiri pressed.

“Kyp Durron.” Nellith spoke the words before she lost her courage and took them back. “Actually, tell him first. I need help finding a ship of our own.”

Tahiri grinned. “You have my word. I’ll go look into that.”

Nellith gave her a thumbs-up, and the barefoot Jedi slipped away. She then looked to her father.

“Thank you.”

Ben nodded curtly. “We’ll leave you to get ready— I’ll give you one of the HoloChips with some credits programmed into it.”

“Thank you so much, Dad.” Nellith was about to turn away and look to the small wardrobe she’d re-accumulated after her capture. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With that, she was left alone.

* * *

She’d just finished lacing her boots and pulling on the leather jacket that once belonged to Jaina that they’d found in one of the old storage units when she heard a knock at the door.

“Just a moment.” She pulled her hair back into the three loops her mother once wore, and later put her daughters’ hair into. “Come on in, it’s not locked.”

Kyp Durron swaggered in. “Master Solo gave me the chip. Apparently we’re buying a ship and you need me on the crew?”

“You’re the only one who I’d trust to fly any ship of mine and not wreck it,” Nellith informed him with a snobby air— she was imitating her older sisters.

“I guess I’ll take that honor,” Kyp said. “I’m not letting you drive my landspeeder, though.”

Nellith rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

She then summoned her lightsaber to her hand, and clipped it on the holster that went over the simpler of Hapan gowns, right above her blaster rifle.

“Come on, we’d better go while there’s still sunlight.”

* * *

After a ride into town that involved Nellith enjoying holding onto Kyp’s waist a little more than she liked to admit, she ended up in the junkyard’s collection of old ships.

She ignored the dealer that was describing all of the ships to her. Nellith knew that he was just a slime ball that was making it all up off the top of his head anyway.

She recognized all of the models, and thanks to her mother and father constantly repairing and upgrading the _Falcon_ , she knew on sight what kind of maintenance she might be signing up for.

“This one’s actually pretty new, from the Angel Blue series, from some new warship designer on Canto Bight—“

Just as Nellith was about to follow Kyp and the dealer onto whatever death trap was secretly the shiny that had somehow ended up in Mos Eisley of all places, she felt something call out to her, in the Force.

She spotted, deep in the rows and rows of ships, one that she’d never seen anymore.

Without another word, she went after it, weaving between parts and heaps of scrap until—

Ah, it was an Ugly. Made from parts of other ships, highly modified. And it was physically ugly, made from so much old and dented scrap— it looked to be a miracle that it would hold together at all.

But she saw the structure behind it— originally a Firefly-class vehicle. Filled with all sorts of nooks and crannies, like the _Falcon_.

These were preferred by smugglers’ crews— and there was a famous legend about a pirate crew formed during the earliest days of the Old Republic.

Of course, it wasn’t probably an actual Firefly, but the story of _Serenity_ still persisted.

“ _Serenity_.” Nellith spoke the name as she held a hand to the cold metal. It felt right— it felt like home, more than Tatooine, did, even.

There was a sense of destiny.

“Oh, there you are, Nellith—“

“Oh, you don’t want that, love.” Slimeball pushed Kyp aside. “It’s a heap of junk.”

“Then you won’t mind letting me peek inside?” Nellith raised an eyebrow.

“Against our policy.” Slimeball’s voice was flat.

“Doesn’t matter, we’ll take it.”

Kyp tugged her sleeve. “Are you crazy? That’s ancient—“

“And it’s perfect, I can feel it.” Nellith pried Kyp’s fingers off of the leather. “Do you trust me?”

Kyp stared into her eyes with his dark green ones. For a moment, she feared that she was wrong to want him as her co-pilot.

Then he nodded. “I always do.”

Nellith turned back to the dealer. “We’re taking _Serenity_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I mentioned I wasn’t subtle. I really do find it interesting how compatible the lore of Firefly is to Star Wars, so I like the idea that they are Corellian legends in particular, since the ideals and virtues of the Firefly characters and stories would be shared by the Corellians in canon.


	28. The Observatory

As the sun peeked over the horizon, Allana Skywalker and Valin Horn began the hike into the canyons where the old observatory once stood.

“We ought to be careful.” Valin pulled binoculars out of his satchel bag and raised them to his face. “I heard that steelpeckers and madmen roam this place.”

“Old men who were part of the Empire, driven mad,” Allana murmured. “But surely they’re all dead? They were old when my mother was a little girl.”

Valin shrugged as he put away the binoculars. “All the same, I’d rather not deal with the steelpeckers.”

“What else is a lightsaber for?” Allana grinned teasingly as she knelt down by the canyon-side.

She glanced out at the canyon as the rising sun slowly illuminated the shadowy floor. It reminded her of a day long ago on Ahch-To, during one of their vacations.

“You know, Anakin once figured out how to fly, when he was only eleven.”

“Anakin was also more gifted with the Force than anyone would hope to be,” Valin reminded her. “I’d come away from the ledge, Your Grace. We can descend with the _Falcon_.”

Allana stood up, inhaling deeply. Perhaps it would be best to listen— but the day was young, and she was filled with the impulse to do it, to try everything and anything now that she had reconnected with the Force.

“Yes, it would be much better—“

She closed her eyes, extending her consciousness and energy outwards. The decision was made. The Force was all around her, like the rising sun whose light she basked in.

Goddess above, she’d missed the sensation.

“Princess, aren’t you coming—“

She then laughed, and jumped into the canyon.

* * *

The wind danced around her as she threw her hands out, willing the Force to slow around her, for time to stand still. It was exhilarating, with all of the fun of the fall—

And all too soon the ride ended with a graceful stop, only about a foot above the packed sand and grit. Her hair spilled out in front of her, and the hem of her tunic and robe met the dust.

She giggled like she was a little girl again, and dropped into a heap on the ground, the sand as gentle as a pillow.

Anakin had done it before, jumping off of a high rock and landing just before a little bit of the path that the fish-nuns used to use.

Allana quickly sobered at the thought of Anakin. Right on time, she remembered the feeling of all the light in the world dying, watching Darth Keera stab him—

“ALLANA SKYWALKER!”

Allana looked up to where Valin had shouted from. She smiled weakly and waved.

“I’m okay, see?” Allana then stood, dusting off the mauve tunic with turquoise and pink beading. She examined for a moment the light brown of her pants— the dirt stains would wash out easily, she decided.

She then looked up to Valin, and her smile disappeared completely.

“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think I could,” she promised. “Please don’t be angry with me— I’m okay, after all.”

“You scared me, I thought—“ Valin shook his head and placed his hand over his heart. “Just give me a minute to get to you.”

“I could help you fly down,” Allana offered. “You won’t regret it.”

Valin squinted down at Allana. “Are you crazy?”

“What, don’t you trust me?” Allana’s tone was light and teasing, but her expression revealed the deeper meaning of her words; She had to know that for all the dreams and prophecies about her queenliness over the Force that she truly deserved it. In her mind, that meant that she was capable of the kind of miracles that her siblings had pulled off regularly in their childhood.

That was another reason she missed Thea. Her eldest sister was more reserved in her displays, too, before she had joined the Sith. Even as the dark Empress, Darth Keera didn’t rely so much on flashy tricks— the Force was only a tool to her, not like it was for the others.

And there was something else, far more personal in Allana’s question to Valin.

Valin must have recognized it, because his expression softened towards her.

“You know I do, Allana.”

And with that, he jumped.

The descent was perfectly controlled, graceful— and he landed stumbling into Allana’s arms.

“Wow.” He remained frozen in her embrace, the two of them unable to move or really even think except for things about how pretty Valin’s face was—

“I could never even hope to keep up with you,” Valin muttered. “That was amazing. I can’t even lift a rock.”

Allana suddenly understood.

She remembered a training session by the little garden that Ben and Rey had created. Jacen, Jaina, Valin, Tahiri, and the others were sitting in a circle with Ben, learning how to lift rocks.

Allana remembered that she and Jysella were watching because they were curious at what the big kids were up to.

Jacen and Jaina of course had an easy time lifting rocks. Others had trouble, but eventually managed it.

But Valin never did, and eventually quit, getting up and crying.

That was when Jysella ran off to comfort him, and Allana awkwardly hid behind the Organa Rose bushes.

While Valin had learned a few basic tricks with the Force, he would never be on the same level as many other Jedi, and certainly not that of a Skywalker.

“Come on,” she said gently. “We should get everything with the observatory done before the day is done.”

“Alright.” He stepped away, and looked back up at the cliffside. “You’ll have to lift us back up there, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Allana swatted the concerns away in a large gesture. “I’ve always got your back.”

She then jogged out a few paces ahead.

* * *

“Wait, Allana, get down!” Valin hissed, interrupting their journey. He then pulled Allana down with him to where the jagged rocks hid them from a small slant in the canyon, leading to where the observatory waited for them.

An obsidian structure, it was so close, blocking out everything else around it.

As Valin peeked between rocks, Allana sat up and glared at him with irritation.

“The locals were right,” Valin muttered. “The mad imps— they’re here.”

“What?” Allana impatiently looked up and between the rocks. Valin placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that silently begged her to keep low.

But she saw them all the same.

Elderly men, with long white beards and skin darkened and worn because of the blazing sun despite the relative cold of Jakku, compared to Tatooine. Their eyes were wild and bright, carrying bits of scrap complied into makeshift weapons to bludgeon, their dark uniforms now tattered and bleached gray.

“They shouldn’t be alive.” Allana tentatively reached out to try and understand how they had all remained forty-four years after the Emperor abandoned them on Jakku.

Chaotic darkness surrounded them in the Force, crackling and thin, as if they were tenuously tied to life itself— and there was something else, something that Allana did not quite recognize. It was strange, and dark— but not the same darkness the Sith or her father once carried.

This was far older,far colder.

She looked back to Valin, frightened.

“I don’t think we want to mess with them,” she whispered. “Did you feel it, too?”

Valin nodded, shivering despite the warmth of the day.

“We’d better be—“

Then she saw it— her reaching out had drawn their attention, as they were now looking in the direction of the rocks.

“What now?” Allana hissed.

“We fight.” Valin’s words were grim, his hazel eyes wide in fear as he gripped the hilt of his lightsaber. Allana removed her own from her belt.

They nodded, an understanding flowing seamlessly between the two of them.

Then, without hesitation, they leapt over the rocks.

The men— or whatever they had become— did not hesitate, launching themselves at Valin.

His even, artful swordsmanship style quickly devolved into wild arcs of desperation and pure adrenaline as the men swarmed him with their metal.

It was as if they hadn’t noticed Allana.

“HEY!” Allana screamed as she ignited her saber-staff. They were distracted just long enough for her to stab one through the chest, then with an arc cut through three.

She made her way to Valin, and they stood back-to-back.

How many were there? Only four remained with them, but Allana had no doubt that more imps remained than this.

After all, the observatory was an impressive work that had somehow stayed in pristine shape. There had to have been a huge maintenance crew.

As she was running the logistics through her mind, she realized that the four remaining imps were staring at her, a sort of serenity on their faces, awe in their eyes like they were seeing the night sky of Hapes for the first time.

Then one wearing a stained white uniform— most likely one of the heads of the project, Allana numbly thought, detached from the blood pumping through her veins— approached, dropping to his knees in front of her. His withered hands reached for the hem of her robes.

“Your Majesty,” he croaked. “Free us.”

The other three repeated the phrase, taking it into a chant.

“Free us. Free us. Free us—“

Allana didn’t know what they wanted— except—

She ignited her lightsaber right through the leader’s chest. That strange serenity seemed to overtake him as his body then crumpled to the ground.

She and Valin made short work of the remaining three— and as Allana delivered the final blow, the bodies of the old men turned to dust.

“What happened?” Allana wondered aloud.

Then she saw the translucent blue ghosts of several men, young again and wearing perfect uniforms.

They smiled at Allana and saluted, before disappearing and becoming one with the Force.

“Something bad happened here,” Valin said even though it was obvious. “Are we sure Rey came here?”

“Dad sent me a transmission last night, when I asked him about that,” Allana said. “Apparently here is where she found a place to the World Between Worlds— where she was able to bring Dad back, after the Battle of Exegol.”

“Wait— your father actually did die?” Valin frowned. “I’d always thought he’d actually survived the encounter and Rey just lied to protect him—“

Allana shook her head. “Dad told me that, a long time ago. He died, once.”

“Did he ever tell you what it was like?”

Allana shook her head again. “He doesn’t remember much, he claims— and what he does remember, he doesn’t want to tell us. Says we’ll find out when it’s our time to join the Force.”

She looked to the big blast doors to the observatory. She wondered if Jaina or Anakin would answer those questions, if she saw them again.

Or, if Rey had once found that door here, could Allana find it and bring her brother and sister back—

“We can’t get in— there’s biometrics blocking the door,” Valin said. “I’m not a slicer—“

“Neither am I.” Allana’s throat went dry. “That was more Anakin’s specialty.”

Still, she looked at her own bare hand. “Let me try— I am the Emperor’s great-granddaughter, after all.”

Unfortunately, she’d forgotten that fingerprints aren’t genetic. And the door did not take a blood sample.

“Hm.” Allana then remembered the compass that Ben had given her.

As soon as she pulled it out, the doors swung open.

“Do you think—“

“There’s something special about this compass,” Allana decided. She pocketed it, and the two entered the long dark hallways of the observatory.

It was echoing, all the lights dead as the generators had run out a long time ago.

“Let’s split up, we’ll cover more ground,” Allana decided as they reached a fork in the path. The main tower was circular, with four branching paths on each level. “I’ll take the control room, you try the vault, alright?”

“Alright.” Valin hesitated a moment, as if there was something else he wanted to say, but he said nothing.

“May the Force be with you,” Allana offered.

Valin nodded, and left.

Allana entered the control room, and there it was, in the very center.

A Jedi holocron— one that looked just like the ones her mother and the other Jedi would make, from time to time.

“Mum?” Allana called out as she picked it up.

The holocron folded open to reveal the face of Rey Skywalker.

“Allana,” she whispered. “Only one of my children could find this. I’m so proud of you.”

“Mum, why did you come here, where are you now?”

“This observatory belonged to my grandfather, Darth Sidious,” Rey said, as if reciting facts out of a flimis book. “It was created to examine the effects of the Force nexus that is in the heart of the planet. My grandfather had heard the stories— I know I told them to you.”

Allana frowned. Her mother had told her many stories— but she remembered now, the legend of Jakku once being a forest planet.

“Here, Sidious left his pupil, Gallius Rax to study the deepest mysteries of the Force and the Sith,” Rey continued, blithely. “What he discovered was that a Sith Lord named Darth Nihilus came and—“

Her hologram flickered, turning red and glitching.

“He corrupted— energy— stole— planet’s core— still— nexus—“

Then the hologram Rey began to speak in a hissing language, baring sharp pointed teeth, unnaturally so for a human.

Allana dropped the holocron, and it closed, just as she heard Valin scream.

She pocketed it, and ran to the other side of the facility in record time.

Valin lay unconscious, with bruises and a wound blossoming across his abdomen.

“Who else is in here?” Allana demanded. All she heard was hissing— but that was enough for her.

Something dark and strange had happened to Valin, and there was no time to lose.

Using the Force, she lifted Valin into the air, and started to run.


	29. Message in a Star Destroyer

Valin was unconscious in the _Falcon’s_ medbay, but the wound had been healed with a bacta patch. He was stable, and would wake up eventually.

Allana was certain of that.

But after tending to her brother’s best friend, her mind turned to other things, like the corrupted holocron she’d held. Was it corrupted by the nexus nearby, or the remaining aura of Darth Sidious, lingering in the place like a ghost?

Or was there something else going on?

Whatever the reason, there was one certainty in all of this. The information had been near-useless. All they knew was that Rey had been to Jakku— but she clearly wasn’t here anymore.

The question was where Rey had gone next.

Allana sighed, and entered the _Hellhound Two_ in search of answers.

She couldn’t imagine how her mother felt, sleeping the cold of the fallen AT-AT.

She was about to leave after a quick examination that she hadn’t missed anything when her eyes fell on a book. Made with dried flimsi and leather, it had stood up to the dramatic temperatures of Jakku.

Allana picked up the book, and returned to the _Falcon_ , where there would be at least some light to read it all by. She sat there, as the moon and stars moved overhead, reading her mother’s scrawled Aubresh.

No one had taught her to read or write— she’d had to teach herself. She’d had to teach herself everything.

Allana now felt even worse about how she internally rebelled against her position in Hapes. It was a blessing, that she’d had so many people willing to help and guide her, even if it hadn’t felt that way at the time.

Then Allana came across it.

The critical missing piece of the puzzle.

The capacitor that kept the metaphorical ship from flying.

The Star Destroyer’s best for scavenging, Rey’d written in her diary. Most scavengers say it’s all picked over, and not worth the dangers. I disagree— but I’m small enough to get to the places the others can’t reach.. So I guess I’m at an advantage there.

Her mother’s favorite place was the Star Destroyer.

It was a wild hope, but it was one that sprang eternal all the same. What if there was a clue in the Star Destroyer?

Allana shut the book, and stood up. She placed it on the dejarik table, and looked up to see Valin. He was murmuring something in his sleep— something like the hissing guttural language the holocron spat when it began to glitch.

A part of her knew she shouldn’t leave him alone.

But she had to know. Her mother would save the galaxy, if she returned. And Valin would be fine.

Allana stood, gripping her saber-staff tightly. And out she went, into the night.

* * *

The moon met the highest point when she finally made it to the Star Destroyer. She turned on one end of her saber-staff, holding it aloft in front of her horizontally as a form of protection and as a flashlight.

The old warship creaked and shadows swayed in the darkness of the Jakkuvian night.

But she couldn’t turn back. Besides, they were only shadows, Allana assured herself. Nothing like the strange men out in the canyon, or the observatory.

When Allana entered the main part of the Star Destroyer, she could feel it.

The presence of a kyber crystal.

Not just any, she realized as her hear skipped a beat. Objects could carry residues of emotions and memories in the Force. Sith masks were powerful for carrying rage and anger.

But powerful light things could remain, too.

Rey never wore any jewelry except for exactly two rings and a single necklace.

The first ring was the Palpatine signet, gifted to her by historians on Naboo. The second was her wedding ring.

The pendant was a mother’s, with the birthstones of each of her six children, as per Alderaanian tradition— although it was usually a ring and not a pendant.

But six kids wouldn’t fit on the first.

In each of the tiny crystals, Allana could always sense the resonance of herself and her siblings.

This pendant, she realized, was left in here.

Furthermore, it couldn’t have been an accident. Rey never took it off, not even for sleeping or swimming.

There had to be a message left in the memories, in the Force around the object, Allana realized.

She closed her eyes and reached out, her finger numbly pointing to where it was in the main chamber of the Star Destroyer.

When she opened her eyes, she internally groaned. She’d have to make herself fly up there.

As she’d discovered when she carried Valin to the _Falcon_ , flying was harder when you were going up than when you were going down.

Allana closed her eyes again, recentering herself. Sensing the cold of the planet, but the heat of the fires in the villages. The desert coming to life, and the bones deep in the sand. The dark of the night and the light of the moon.

The balance.

_Allya give me strength._

With that, Allana jumped.

Pushing up with the Force, she landed on a thin ledge, and quickly had to get a good grip. Her footing was weak, and she nearly fell. She managed to kick wildly and end up with good footing after all.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she then reached into the open shaft, calling the pendant to her in the Force. It reached into her hand, and she pocketed it.

After a flying descent, and removed the pendant from her pocket, letting the memories wash over.

But it was only one word that was new.

Korriban.

* * *

Allana sprinted into the _Falcon_ , filled with the manic energy of a full moon and accomplishment. She shook Valin’s shoulder in her reckless excitement.

“Valin, wake up, I know where Rey went next—“

He rolled over in the medbay, and his eyes flashed open— Sith yellow.

Allana cried out and stumbled back, falling into the dejarik table.

Valin started to convulse, his eyes rolling back into his head before he slumped over completely.

Allana picked herself up off of the floor slowly. Then he shifted, sitting up quickly.

“Valin?” she called out his name tentatively, and her voice wobbled.

“Allana— is everything okay?”

His eyes were hazel.

“Yeah, yeah.” Allana coughed and faked a smile. “You’re okay, that’s good. We found it— where Rey went. We need to go to Korriban.”

“Alright.” Valin swung his legs over to the floor and placed a hand over his stomach.

“Are you alright?” Allana asked. “I used a bacta patch—“

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Come on, let’s get off of this junkyard.”

“Yeah.”

Still, Allana stared after him a moment. Strange things had happened here. She could only hope that they wouldn’t follow her.


	30. Interstellar Transmissions

Allana woke next to Valin on the bed of the _Millennium Falcon._ A quick glance confirmed that he was still fast asleep, although he was hissing that strange language once more.

Gently, she rolled out of the bed and onto the cold durosteel plating on the floor. She managed to cushion herself enough to make only a small thud against the grates. With the hum of hyperspace all around them, a few noises like that were bound to happen.

It wouldn’t rouse Valin from his sleep, and that was the last thing that Allana wanted.

She padded softly through the ship, and stopped in the comms station,hidden in a closet-like room within the _Falcon_. The door slid shut and locked behind her. Valin would not be able to listen in.

Allana dialed to the correct frequency, and the holographic vision of her father appeared.

His shoulders sank in relief. “Allana, I was beginning to worry. Your comms were sparse.”

“We’re in hyperspace on our way to Korriban,” Allana said. “I found a clue from Mum in an old Star Destroyer on Jakku. We should be there in thirteen standard hours.”

“That’s good,” Ben said. “Where’s Valin?”

Allana swallowed. “That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

Ben’s features were grim and stern again. “What’s going on?”

“We went to the observatory for clues, and we split up to cover more ground,” Allana explained. “I found a holocron that Mum left— but it was corrupted, the holocron began speaking in this strange hissing language and flashed red—“

“The dark side.” Ben nodded— then frowned. “I don’t understand. Rey wouldn’t—“

“I know— I think it was something about that place,” Allana confessed. “Because right after, I heard a scream, and Valin was hurt— mysterious stomach wound, although nothing else was around and no one was there.”

“Is that all?” Ben asked.

“Well, no.” Allana couldn’t help but look upward as she tried to piece her thoughts together, where they needed to go. “He’s been off since then. He speaks that same hissing language in his sleep—“

“It’s ancient Sith,” Ben interrupted. “But that language is dead, forbidden— only scholars and droids speak it now, and droids are forbidden to translate it with their programming.”

“I also once woke him up, and he briefly had Sith eyes, passed out, and then woke up as himself again,” Allana finished. “It’s very strange— and I’m a little afraid that he might wake up as not himself at some point.”

“I agree, I don’t like the idea of you two being alone right now.” Ben considered her for a moment. “You’re going to Korriban, you said?”

“Yes, the Valley of Sith,” Allana said. It felt right to start there, even if that was not where Rey had told them to go. “That reminds me— well, you know of the old Imperial men that supposedly went mad and haunted the canyon around the old observatory?”

“I’d heard the stories.”

“They’re true— and they were very strange as well.” Allana’s voice kept sinking deeper and deeper into a conspiratorial tone. “They were old men, but somehow they’d survived for nearly fifty years past being abandoned in the desert— all middle-aged men at the time. They attacked Valin, but they somehow recognized me, asked me to ‘free them.’”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Did you?”

“To save Valin, yes.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, taking in a deep breath. “They all turned to dust when I did. Became one with the Force.”

“Definitely unusual,” Ben agreed. “We’ll have to look into that at some point, once Rey’s back. She might know more about what happened there.”

“I hope so.”

That would make it all worth it, Allana decided mentally. If her mother could come home again, this would all be worth it.

“Anyway, Aya Tico is on the dig team in the Valley of the Sith right now,” Ben said. “You might want to give her a call, maybe Sam, too. Let them know you’re coming. They might be able to help you.”

“I agree.” Allana nodded, although she still thought of Valin’s Sith eyes, and how he spoke the Sith language in his sleep—-

“I’ll also be sending backup,” Ben added. “I don’t think you should be alone with Valin right now.”

Even though Allana never planned to tell her father about her bed sharing plans and knew that wasn’t what he was referencing, she couldn’t help the flush to her cheeks.

“I agree,” she managed.

“Your sister has a crew of Jedi— they were supposed to be looking for some artifacts, but they took a little longer than they expected fixing and testing out _Serenity_ ,” Ben explained. “They’re coming to you— they’ll make planetfall about when you will.”

“Like the old Corellian legend,” Allana whispered. She recognized the name from her mother’s stories. “Thank you, Dad.”

“Of course.” Ben nodded again, a smile on his face. “I’d do anything for my children, Allana. Remember that. May the Force be with you.”

“Always,” Allana whispered as the transmission ended.

She then decided to call Sam. It went to an answering machine, as it was very early in Chandrila.

But she still felt better for having passed on the message to Aya that she was coming.

But a part of her did not want to return to bed. As much as she liked Valin, it scared her, whatever had happened to him in her great-grandfather’s observatory.

Hyperspace was always cold, but not like this. Allana shivered, feeling as if something— or someone— was watching her.


	31. Archaeological Digs

Nellith Skywalker let out a sigh of relief as _Serenity_ left hyperspace, holding true and steady. Kyp thought her fix for the hyperdrive wasn’t the most reliable, and while he was probably right, they didn’t have time to fix it further.

After all, her sister needed her.

She pulled down the intercom— one of the older pieces of _Serenity_ , she’d discovered. She’d taken great joy in abusing it to surprise her crew at any time.

“Everyone buckle in, we’re about to head into the Valley of the Sith,” Nellith said. “Oh, also, this is your captain speaking.”

She heard Kyp snort as he entered the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat.

“You and that thing.”

Nellith rolled her eyes as she grinned. “It’s fun. I’ve never been a captain of a ship before. Also, are you going to help me land this thing or not?”

“I was just thinking I could sit here and look pretty.” Kyp then tossed his head, showing off his glossy black curls.

“Pretty don’t land ships,” Nellith said. “Although I hear it can launch a thousand.”

“Two-thousand, for mine.”

“Shut up and fly, pretty-boy.”

The descent shook up the ship a little bit, but nothing fell off, and everything was still stable. Serenity held true, all the way to the makeshift spaceport next to the Valley of the Sith.

“Your Ugly sure is more than she looks, isn’t she?” Kyp asked.

Nellith patted the dashboard. “That’s my girl.”

* * *

Nellith was the first to emerge from the ship, with her flowing dress and leather jacket, looking a perfect mix between her mother and her father.

Kyp was right behind her, Jysella next to him and already clutching her lightsaber. Tash and Artoo brought up the rear, clearly the shyer members of the crew.

Well, Artoo wasn’t shy, but he was gaining a higher sense of preservation in the years passing since Threepio had briefly lost his memory for the mission to Exogol.

Besides, Nellith knew it was probably worse for her health that Artoo was taking up the rear. He was always up to some sort of mischief.

Out of the central white tents emerged Allana, Valin, and a young woman that Nellith barely remembered, but was all the same familiar to her.

Valin frowned. “Jysella? What are you doing here?”

Jysella folded her arms as the crew of _Serenity_ approached. “Nellith needed someone like me on her crew. Besides, it’s the closest I’ll get to a traditional apprenticeship, given how many of the masters are dead.”

“And Durron?” Before he could make a snarky comment, Allana placed a hand on his arm.

“That’s enough, Valin,” she said gently. “We’ve got more to worry about than this.”

Kyp frowned. “The hell, Horn? I know you’re an uptight prick sometimes, but we didn’t get along that badly.”

Nellith put a hand up, signaling Kyp to stop. For good measure, she glanced at him, pleading with her eyes for him to wait. They’d all been briefed, that something was up with Valin, something Sith-y.

After all, that was why Serenity had come to Korriban in the first place.

“It’s good to see you, sis,” Nellith said, lowering her hand. “Dad told me you found something about Mum.”

“Apparently she wanted us to come here of all places,” Allana said as she strode forward. Wearing a long white tunic with a train that blew in the wind, she reminded Nellith of how their mother looked in the older holographs.

“It was before the Corellian History Society got the rights to the dig site,” Aya Tico added.

“Aya, it’s been forever,” Nellith cried out.

Aya shrugged. “Just three years. Besides, I wasn’t really into all the Force-magic stuff like my brother. Even if we Calrissian-Ticos do have a gift for it, or whatever.”

“Aya’s here to guide us around in the Valley of the Sith,” Allana elaborated.

“Gotta make sure you don’t wreck any of the temples.” Aya planted her gloved hands on her hips, resembling her mother in her sheer determination. “While we might be based in Corellia, we’re trying to get a solid database for the history of the entire galaxy. There’s been so much lost in all of the wars— it’s better to have some clear records so we don’t have people getting things wrong, like that the twins were Han and Leia’s kids, or that Ben Skywalker was Luke’s son, things like that.”

Nellith nodded, glancing around her. Part of why she agreed, besides sisterly bonds and paternal compulsion and all of that, was that part of her mission lay here.

She could remember it now, crystal and clear.

She’d stood here, once, clad in the gear of the Imperial Remnant. A black sleeveless jumpsuit, a white scarf covering her hair and neck, tinted goggles allowing her to block out the sun.

She’d had a lightsaber at her side then, too.

They could stay a little longer, Nellith decided— once they’d finished helping Allana retrieve whatever clues Rey had left.

Still, there was something about all of this that left Nellith uneasy.

Perhaps it was that they were in the resting places of the oldest and most terrible Sith Lords ever to live— and resting places held power. Or perhaps it was the way that Valin looked around, like he was itching for a fight.

Or how Kyp looked ready to take the bait.

“Come on,” Aya said. “Let’s get out of the sun and let’s make a game-plan. I was talking with the head of the site, Dr. Tharen. She mentioned that one of the graves was very recently disturbed— like, in the past decade. Most of the locals live on the other side of the planet, want nothing to do with it. So it’s very unusual.”

“You think our mum went grave-robbing?” Nellith asked.

“Probably needed something in there,” Allana said quietly as they entered one of the tents.

Aya then looked at the commlink on her wrist. “Oh, Dr. Tharen needs me to help with some sample analysis outside the the tomb of Exar-Kun— not his true resting place, you know, just one erected by later Sith in his honor.”

Aya breathlessly then swooped up a satchel bag that was lying on the makeshift rug floor of the tent. “The point is, we’ll talk tonight, this is gonna take a while— just stay here and try not to get into any trouble, help yourself to our supplies—“

She practically stumbled back out, leaving the Jedi crew to sit under the tent.

Allana sat down on a crate, pulling a beautiful silk fan out of a hidden pocket. “There is no breeze here.”

“Don’t worry, you still look as lovely as ever,” Kyp assured her with a wink.

Allana giggled, and Nellith felt a churning in her stomach.

She knew it was probably nothing— even before the Purge, Kyp had a reputation as rather flirtatious among the younger Jedi males and females.

But all the same a part of her wanted to scream, “look at me.”

She couldn’t really blame him, though. Allana had been lucky enough to get more of their mother’s facial features. Nellith’s more angular features and large nose was considered unfortunate on a girl in many circles. Besides, her coloring was more stark, with dark hair and light eyes, while Allana had lucked out with black hair and brown eyes like their father—

Nellith shook her head. Where had that come from?

There was a mission here. Who was she to care about flirtations and who was prettier of the Skywalker sisters?

Besides, everyone knew that the real looker of the family had been Jaina.

Still, even if it was only for a second, it still hurt to watch as Kyp hung onto Allana’s every word in the way that only enchanted boys could, as Allana recounted some story about a hot day on Madrassa, in Hapan Space. 

After all, Nellith never forgot when they were growing up that Allana was the one with the special destiny.

It wasn’t favoritism, not exactly. And she couldn’t really fault her parents for the extra responsibility, the reminders of her future— even though they had tried to hide it in the earlier years.

But when puberty hit, everyone in the Jedi Order seemed to know about Allana and her mysterious destiny as the Jedi Queen.

Everyone commented on how regal she seemed, how special she was— you could just see it after all—

It was hard, being the ordinary sibling in the Skywalkers. After all, Thea was the eldest, and the one to take on the legacy of politics, so she shone in that way. Everyone knew the twins were special, and their bond was unique. Allana had her royal destiny— and then there was Anakin, who was the subject of several prophecies.

Nellith wasn’t supposed to know about that, with Anakin— but she couldn’t help it. She’d seen Tionne and Rey examine the old parchment and holocrons when Nellith had woken from a nightmare one night.

Rey had told her, that night, that Nellith was special in her own way.

_“You have the Skywalker eyes,” Rey said, bopping Nellith on the tip of her large nose. “Maz Kanata even said so, shortly after you were born. Besides, sometimes it’s better not to have some great destiny. You have the chance to write your own destiny, walk your own path. I think you’d be surprised about how much your brothers and sisters wish they had what you do.”_

Even then, Nellith considered that a consolation prize kind of speech.

But it returned to her now all the same.

“Nellith?”

“What?” She looked to see that Kyp was watching her.

“You alright?” Kyp raised an eyebrow. “You had this weird expression—“

“Sorry.” Nellith shook her head, tossing a few stray curls loose from the three loops. “Just remembering some things. Probably space-lagged, that’s all.”

Kyp nodded, but the look in his eyes told her that he didn’t quite believe her.

Nellith didn’t plan on saying anything, however, and her cheeks turned red. Those thoughts were incredibly childish and selfish.

And then Nellith couldn’t help but feel as if something was watching them.


	32. Lost Empires

“Rey was at Marka Ragnos’s tomb.”

The group looked up from their meals of rations and games of pazaak to see Aya Tico and Dr. Bria Tharen standing in the doorway of the tent where they’d spent the rest of the lingering afternoon on Korriban.

Nellith rose to her feet, dusting the sand off of her light blue dress. “Sorry, Dr. Tharen— what?”

“I apologize for the delay.” Dr. Tharen smiled warmly, wrinkling her nose. “Excavations have quite an interesting pace. We may spend days where not much happens— and then all of a sudden, all hands are needed on-deck!”

“We found some evidence that Sith tassels and prophecy crystals were hidden somewhere around the Exar Kun memorial tomb,” Aya explained. “That’ll be interesting. But tomorrow, we’ll be looking at Marka Ragnos’s tomb instead.”

“You said our mother had been there?” Allana asked.

“We found evidence that the tomb had been disturbed and the fissures and marks are as recent as two or three years ago,” Dr. Tharen said. “There isn’t much evidence of grave-robbing anywhere else in the Valley of the Sith, so I’d take a guess that Rey Skywalker ended up there.”

Then Dr. Tharen shifted for a moment, a strange light coming over her eyes.

“Who knew that her husband was Kylo Ren, the Jedi Killer of all people?” Dr. Tharen gave a nervous laugh. “The Last Jedi and the Jedi Killer— that will be one for the history texts.”

Nellith and Allana shared a look— one that shared their mutual disdain for Dr. Tharen’s detached description of their parents and their romance.

Allana was the first to break the look. “I suppose it would be strange, to outsiders.”

“I apologize, Knight Skywalker—“

“Oh, I’m not a knight— call me Allana if you must, please,” Allana said in that dainty and regal way. Like a princess.

Nellith was baffled at her own emotions. She’d literally never held the desire to be either of those things. She was never like Thea or Allana, the princesses and royal heiresses of the family.

No, she’d always been more like Jacen and Jaina— truly leaning into the Corellian blood from Han Solo. Wild and reckless, a flyer at heart.

As for boys— well, she’d had her crush on Kyp Durron as a younger Jedi, and would be lying if she said she didn’t still hold the candle now.

But it was ridiculous to be jealous over a few glances, she told herself. Especially when they were being debriefed on their next mission.

_Focus, Nellith, focus._

“So, that said, be ready about one standard hour before dawn,” Dr. Tharen finished. “I’ll be waiting outside with a crew. We’ll be on frequency 3 of the comms— just let us know if you need us to come and get you.”

“Well, it’s likely that pyrotechnics and emergency excavation techniques won’t be exactly helpful,” Tash interrupted. “Records from the _Lore Seeker_ state that Ragnos has a tomb that is incredibly easy to access— because he did not fear grave-robbers and had left far more subtle traps.”

“You really think Sith ghosts are still lingering at the site?” Dr. Tharen raised her eyebrows. “The writings of Jedi Master and Master Historian of the Old Republic Mical Antilles state that it is not possible— Sith cannot form ghosts.”

Tash’s blue eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I’d think the New Jedi Order would be privy to that knowledge.” Dr. Tharen continued to smile jovially, not knowing how she had offended Tash.

Nellith could sense her crew-mate bristling in the Force, like a Tooka Cat about to pounce. She gently sent out a warning to her friend in the Force, along with some vague attempt at calm.

Then again, it was hard to be calm in time such as these.

“Thank you, Dr. Tharen,” Nellith said. “We appreciate you and Aya’s help with finding our mother. We miss her greatly, and so does the galaxy, we find.”

Dr. Tharen smiled sympathetically. “Everyone misses Rey Skywalker. It’s just a pity that Kylo Ren was the one found instead.”

Allana’s hand darted over Nellith’s wrist, and the Hapan princess smiled charmingly enough to block that three of his children and several Jedi who had trained under him were now giving Dr. Tharen the stink-eye.

“Sorry,” Aya mouthed as she ushered Dr. Tharen out of the Jedi tent.

Jacen was the first to speak. “What a condescending moof-milker!”

“I know.” Tahiri placed her hand on his shoulder. “The galaxy— they just don’t know him like the Jedi do.”

“Speak for yourself,” Valin muttered.

Nellith was about to defend him when someone else spoke up.

“Valin!” Jysella cried, standing from where she crouched on the rug laid on the packed sand. “You know Master Solo— he’s been nothing but a good man to us!”

“Like you don’t know that Dad’s only sworn his allegiance to Rey’s Order, not Ben’s,” Valin sneered. “You should hear him, when he’s had a few Corellian Firewhiskeys in him. How he thinks Ben should have been shot, for what he did— Exogol or no. He should have stayed dead.”

“Valin, you don’t mean that?” Tears started to well inAllana’s eyes. “Don’t say these things, please.”

“Yeah, this doesn’t sound like you,” Jacen said.

“Is it so hard to believe?” Valin raised his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Tahiri said just as Kyp said, “No.”

Everyone then looked to Kyp.

“You’ve always been an uptight prick and an absolute goody-goody who can’t see the moon for the stars!”

“Oh, you’re just mad because I see right through you, and I always have, Durron,” Valin spat. “You’re just a scared little boy playing at darkness—“

“What happened with Exar Kun wasn’t my fault, and besides, I didn’t hurt anyone—“

“Yeah, but you almost killed people, yet Solo still let you off the hook, even offered to train you himself.” Valin’s voice was dripping with bitter laughter and jealousy. “What hypocrites. Wanting to bring justice when we let murderers and liars and thieves hang around—“

“The Jedi helped Mom and Dad get together,” Jysella reminded him furiously. “She was a smuggler— would you have preferred she got to jail with Grandpa and—“

“There’s a difference between the two and you know it—“‘

Nellith’s eyes widened, and she stumbled back half a step. This wasn’t right.

They would never say anything like this to one another— not under normal circumstances.

But these weren’t normal circumstances.

Nellith realized in that second that she and her father had made a terrible mistake. Many young, impulsive, and powerful Jedi with very little experience against the dark side, all in the Valley of the Sith, where the darkest of the dark spent their afterlife, haunting all that was left of their legacy.

“EVERYBODY STOP!”

Everyone in question turned to look at Nellith.

“Guys, think for one second about where we are.” Nellith’s voice drifted conspiratorially low. “The Valley of the Sith. Their ghosts are preying on us, making us the worst we possibly can be, so we’ll succumb to the dark side.”

The Jedi backed away from one another, and the tent was quiet for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like with Zekk and Tenel Ka, there are some differences between Kyp’s canon characterization and his backstory here. It plays out similar to Jedi Academy, but the Sun Crusher was not involved. So no one died.


	33. Tomb-Raiders

Allana had a bad feeling about this.

She didn’t announce that, as she was the first one to enter the tomb of Marka Ragnos, and thought it would be tempting fate to speak it aloud. But she thought it all the same.

Getting in the tomb had been tricky enough. The gilded frame to the entrance of the one-grand tomb now was rubble blocking the open door. Sear marks revealed the source of the damage.

“Mum cut it down,” Allana had realized. “To keep us and others from finding this.”

The Jedi then got to work, lifting the obstacles that would have taken a solid day of work for the archaeologists, whether it would have been through manual labor or pyrotechnics.

Nellith had wanted to fire off a warning shot with her blaster, in case Sith acolytes or smugglers had gotten inside through some secret passage or something to a similar effect.

Aya talked her out of that one, explaining that they wanted to investigate the temples once the Jedi were done.

Now, they entered the gaping maw that was the Tomb of Marka Ragnos.

Allana ignited her saber-staff and held it aloft, lighting the rust-colored dirt that was packed into the tiles on the ground.

For all of the grandeur that the Sith had attempted to engage in, it was a sorry sigh in comparison to Hapan splendor.

Allya, she sounded like one of her ladies-in-waiting.

How Allana missed them.

Still, there was work to be done. She took a step forward, and as she did, the large lanterns ignited, lighting up the long passage from the antechamber to very heart of where Ragnos was laid to rest.

The long ledge in question was a bridge without any railings, encompassed by what seemed to be a bottomless pit.

Kyp peered down at the shadows, untouched by the light of the Sith lantern, and let out a low whistle.

“Ragnos sure knows how to decorate the place.”

“We can give critiques to his design team later,” Nellith assured him. She then glanced up at the lanterns. “I will say those were a pretty touch. Would’ve broken up the red and more red, though. Maybe a nice green as an accent, or gold—“

Kyp gently elbowed her, and she just rolled her eyes. Then the two of them sobered.

Allana took a deep breath, and stepped onto the bridge. She was relived when it held her weight.

“It should be fine to hold all of us,” Allana assured the others.”

“Yeah, Sith architecture is pretty sturdy,” Aya agreed. “The Sith might have been bastards, but they did understand good infrastructure.”

Allana was very grateful for that fact. And the lanterns were a great source of light, blocking out all shadows except for those at the bottom of the pit.

And yet, despite the lack of anything really to set it off, Allana couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. Despite the heat of the Korriban desert, so similar to the other deserts she’d been to, it was so cold.

She kept expecting something to pop out from behind the gilded rail around the ceiling or the stark pillars lining the interior walls.

But nothing did.

Except for the adventurers there now, nothing even breathed inside of the tomb of Marka Ragnos.

Eventually the bridge led to two large doors with ancient carvings in it. Aya was quick to whip out her datapad and sketch out what she saw.

Allana approached the doors, and was about to lift a hand to push or find a panel when the doors swung open for the entire party.

In the center of the room was the tomb, with the staff of Ragnos lying on top, gathering dust as it must have for centuries.

Aya was quick to take it.

“Do you see the material?” Aya then pulled off the bottom of the staff to reveal a sword. “It’s lightsaber-resistant metal. And look at the runes on the hilt—“

“And there it is—“ Jysella pointed at the feet of the large statue of Ragnos installed against the back wall. “Rey’s holocron!”

Allana felt a surge of panic, reaching out, wanting to stop Jysella at any costs.

“No!”

Jysella froze halfway through her run cycle. A finely attuned eye could see her struggling in vain to break free of Allana’s grip in the Force.

Horrified, Allana immediately let go, and Jysella fell to the ground.

Valin ran to his sister’s side, and he glared up at Allana, his eyes flashing yellow.

“Why did you have to do that?” He snarled.

“Valin!” Jysella wrenched herself away from him and stood up. “She didn’t mean to do it.” Her hazel eyes found Allana’s. “Did you, Allana?”

“No.” The word was an exhale of relief. “Something’s wrong about this place, Jysella. That’s all. I didn’t want you getting hurt, because look at the shape of that holocron.”

Yes, it glowed blue like a Jedi’s— but it was the triangular pyramid shape of a Sith holocron.

“You just were jealous—“

“Stop, buddy,” Jacen said, and Allana could feel her older brother standing next to her, even if he hadn’t brushed past her at all. “Valin, you’re not yourself.”

“Why?” Valin picked himself up off the ground. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked like a monster in cheap Holo-dramas. “Because I dare to feel anger, Skywalker?”

Allana and Jacen exchanged a glance. They needed nothing more to know that whatever had happened to Valin on Jakku, it wasn’t as simple as temptation.

It was possession.

But there was no time to debate who or what had seized the older of the Horn siblings.

They needed to make sure he couldn’t hurt anybody, not like this.

“Because you’re not making any sense,” Jacen said. “Valin, look at yourself. You’re a Jedi— you always have been, more than me in a lot of ways.”

“I’m barely a Jedi.” There was a vulnerability that Allana recognized. “I don’t have power.”

“Tyra Sarkin doesn’t either,” Jysella reminded him. “But she’s still one of the best knights in the Order—“

“Shut up!” Valin’s hands rose to his ears, and Jysella went flying back.

“We need to get him out of here,” Nellith said as she rushed to Jysella’s side.

“We shouldn’t have brought so many Jedi into a place like this,” Jacen said, surveying the tomb again for a hidden shadow. “I— I don’t feel so good, we should leave—“

Tahiri frowned. “I feel it too.”

Her green eyes then found Valin, who stood, horrified, looking at his shaking hands. His eyes were hazel again.

“I—“ he looked to Nellith helping Jysella up. “Jysella, please, I’m sorry—“

“I’m sure you are,” Kyp snarled. His green eyes were as bright as embers in a bonfire. He reached for his lightsaber. “But we’re supposed to forgive you, aren’t we? If the rest of us screw up, however, that’s a different story—“

“Kyp, I really am sorry—“

“So was I, when I realized what Exar Kun almost made me do, as a child,” Kyp snarled. “When I realized that I’d almost slipped to the dark. So was Nellith, when she returned with her memories wiped—“

“Stop.”

Kyp did so, looking to Nellith, who held a hand up as she herself stood, next to Jysella.

“He’s sincere,” Allana said, trailing on the thought she could sense from her twin.

“Well, I’m sorry, Your Highness, but your opinion’s not exactly worth much here,” Kyp said. “You’re kind of biased, in that way.”

Allana’s cheeks turned pink, but she willed herself still to speak. “Think for a minute. This happened last night, as well. Someone is here, some Sith ghost, like Tash said, and they’re manipulating us. We need to move.”

“I for one, think we should seal the one being possessed by a Sith Lord in here,” Tahiri said, her soft features surprisingly cruel. “After all, Valin is right— he has no power.”

“It’s not—“ Valin reached a hand to his forehead.

“There is a Sith here, but I am afraid it is not the Corellian.”

Everyone turned to see where the deep, echoing voice had come from.

The way Aya Tico carried herself was different. She was standing tall and proud, her feet placed well for a fight as she held the scepter-sword, twirling it as she tested its weight.

“Marka Ragnos,” Tash whispered in fear and awe.

“Puny Jedi,” Ragnos sneered from Aya’s body. “I have had my tomb desecrated for the last time! At least the prior tomb-raider had the decency to be of a Sith bloodline. But all of these light-side weaklings are trash that need to be disposed of.”

Despite the fighting before, every Jedi drew their weapon. But Allana held up a hand, stopping them.

“We can’t hurt Aya,” Allana said. “He’s using her body— if we strike, we kill her, and not Ragnos.”

Ragnos responded to that with laughter.

Nellith rolled her eyes. “Sith are so stupid.”

With that, they strode forward, a united front.

The fight, for all of Ragnos’s bluster, was far from the battle promised.

Then again, for all the power an ancient Sith Lord could wield, the might of eight Jedi was a bit ridiculous in how it outclassed him. It was like bringing a blaster to a vibroblade fight, Allana thought once they froze Aya and wrenched the scepter away from her.

The second they did so, Aya slumped over, unconscious, and Tash dropped the scepter on the ground, not eager to get the next case of Sith possession.

Allana then went over to pick up the holocron.

“We’ve got what we came for.”


	34. Plagueis the Wise

“I’m sorry about that,” Aya said as she applied an ice pack to her head. “I didn’t think that would happen.”

“Seriously?” Dr. Tharen raised an eyebrow. “That was one of the main protocols we had in place, Aya— that we don’t touch Sith objects without having a Force-sensitive person check it over for a residual dark side aura.”

Dr. Tharen’s frown then deepened. “Stars, Aya, you’re Force-sensitive, even if you’re no Jedi. You’ve run checks on that kind of thing before—“

“I couldn’t get a read on it,” Aya said defensively. “I thought it would be fine— might have been the rest of the temple.”

“The scepter itself would be fine, it’s just that Ragnos’s ghost isn’t going anywhere,” Tash explained. Her words pointedly emphasized the bit about the Sith ghost. “I guess those are real, after all.”

“I concede that the Jedi texts are wrong, although that will make several Jedi historians in the Corellian History Society quite angry.” Dr. Tharen sighed. “At least there was no lasting damage and the tomb can still be recovered. We’ll figure out how to deal with that later. You got what you were looking for?”

“Yeah.” Allana held the square in her hand.

“Well, open it,” Tahiri said eagerly. “We’ve taken too long waiting to find Master Rey as is.”

“I guess so.” There was a degree of anticipation behind this. This holocron would have the answer to one of the questions that had plagued the entire Skywalker family over the last three years.

Where had Rey gone?

“Alright.” Allana let out a quick exhale, her extra shot of courage. “Let’s do this, I can do this.”

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, feel their emotions in the Force.

Soon they would know. And yet a part of her wanted to hold onto the time before, just a little extra second longer. . .

She lifted her hands over the holocron and focused on opening it with her mind, opening her own heart to whatever secrets it held.

Her heart pounded as her eyes opened. The holocron opened, revealing the translucent blue figure of Rey.

The same freckled face, the same hair pulled partially back, half up and half down, the same fierce hazel eyes. She wore the mother’s ring that belonged to Leia and her own, and wore a tunic set underneath a Jedi robe.

Intrinsically, Allana knew the tunic and leggings were green, for her mother wore green as often as possible, it being her favorite color.

Allana swallowed, her breaths becoming shallow. Time seemed to slow down, the chrono ticking that much more slowly. She had to choose her next words carefully. The anticipation around her threatened to drown her.

“Mum?” Allana sounded like a little girl again, begging her mother to slice up the monsters under her bed with a lightsaber, before she truly understood the legend of Rey Skywalker. This wasn’t just the savior of the galaxy. It was her mother.

The holocron picked up on her sentimentality. A Jedi could never know what a holocron was programmed to respond to. After all, at the end of the day, it is merely knowledge and a simulation of personality— not the actual person.

And in that distinction came the unpredictability an actual person could carry, or the minute nuances that could add up in to contrary action.

Holocron-Rey smiled warmly. The brightest smile that she only reserved for her children and husband. The one that not even her closest and oldest friends received.

This was it. She was about to speak— tell them where she was, that she missed them—

“Where are you?” Allana whispered urgently.

Rey nodded.

“Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

All of the emotion in the room deflated. Air and reality came zooming back in, so fast Allana felt dizzy.

“What in the nine hells—“

“Are you kriffing kidding me—“

“What in the stars is she on—“

It was a joke amongst the Jedi Order, somewhat. How it had started, no one exactly knew, but suspicions lay with Rey. Tionne and Ben had hated it, but it was the speech that was given whenever someone wanted to be annoying.

This holocron was at the center of everything— and all Rey had left for her family was an inside joke.

“I don’t understand,” Allana confessed. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

Rey stopped, her expression serious. “Allana.”

Allana blinked. “You recognize me?”

Rey’s holocron nodded. Then a slow smile appeared— like she was saying, trust me.

Then she repeated again, slowly, more emphatically. “Did you ever hear of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend.”

The others in the party looked to Allana with confusion.

“Why are you doing that?” Jacen asked. “It’s a joke, a decoy, Mum must have left the real one elsewhere—“

“Sh.” Allana frowned and Rey picked up again.

“Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life. . . “ Rey trailed off, looking meaningfully at Allana. “He had such a knowledge of the dark side, he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”

“Wait a minute.” Allana looked to Dr. Tharen. “Is there a tomb for Darth Plagueis?”

“Yes, but it was already ransacked by tomb raiders long before we ever got here,” Dr. Tharen said. “It’s useless to us. We took a look around, but weren’t able to find anything.”

“Mum, are you in the Plagueis tomb?” Allana asked. “Or did you leave something there?”

Rey smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural!”

Allana nodded sagely. “Thanks Mum.”

Rey stopped, and disappeared, the Holocron closing itself.

“We’re not really going to go after a guess from a joke holocron?” Nellith asked, although she stood with Allana.

“Mum did get a sense of humor the longer she was married to Dad.”

* * *

Like Dr. Tharen said, the one-room tomb appeared to be empty.

But Allana believed that appeared was the key word.

“I bet anything there’s a hidden passageway into a basement,” Allana said. “Or a cellar.”

“Look at these carvings,” Tash said, touching the stone wall. “They’re not indented, like most of the writing kind. It’s the Sith code, in the ancient Sith language. I wonder if—“

She pressed the symbol for “passion.”

The carving sank into the wall, and the cracks glowed an ominous red.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion,” Tash murmured.

“Through passion, I gain—“ she then reached for a rune above her, having to jump to get it. “Strength!”

Tash’s eyes were bright, filled with the passion a scholar would get from solving a particularly difficult problem. Her golden-blonde braid was already disheveled. She smoothed her flyaway hairs and pushed her bangs up and out of her eyes.

“Through strength, I gain power.” Tash looked around. “Power, where’s—“ She was quick to find and press down the next rune. The ground rumbled beneath them.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Kyp asked.

“It’s fine, just hang on.” Tash dismissed their concerns with a wave of their hand. “Through power I gain victory— there— and then, through victory my chains are broken— what rune does that mean—“

The temple rumbled more.

“Um, Tash—“ Jysella looked nervous.

“It would be multiple words, but those are different runes and I don’t want to mess this up, who knows what happens if you get it wrong—“

“Tash.” Jacen approached, a colder look in his eye. “Which one is ‘chains’?”

“Over there, but wait, I don’t know for sure—“

Jacen pressed in the rune, and the temple settled. In the center, a staircase formed.

“That one,” Jacen said dully.

“How did you know?” Allana asked.

Jacen stared at the wall a moment. “People who do things. . . Things like what Thea did to me, and to Nellith— to so many people. . . They aren’t free, no matter what they might think. They just don’t know that they’ve made their own chains.”

“Are you alright?” Tahiri asked, carefully approaching.

“I’m fine.” Jacen sighed. “Let’s just get what we came for.”

* * *

There were only two things in the dark cellar— the lightsaber pike that once belonged to Darth Plagueis, and another light-side holocron.

Allana opened it without hesitation this time.

It was Rey again. But there was a smudge of dirt on her face, and she looked much sadder.

“Jacen. Allana. Nellith.” The holocron bit her lip. “I’m so sorry. Thea was here. She went here during her Trial of Heart, for New Alderaan.”

“Mum, what’s going on?” Allana wanted to be more clever than last time. Catch onto the trick right away.

“Thea came to the originator of the Skywalker family, the one who manipulated the midichlorians to create Anakin Skywalker all those years ago.” Rey was crying now. “I didn’t know. . . I didn’t know that his ghost. . . That his ghost possessed her. That he’s why she is the way she is now. That it’s not her.”

“Mum, we have to stop her.” Allana said. “We need your help. We need you.”

“Vader’s the one who started all of this,” Rey said, swiping at her tears. “It’s where we’ll end this. Your father told me this secret a long time ago. Vader had a funeral pyre on the moon of Endor— a short walk from the Ewok village. You’ll be able to feel it.”

Rey then glanced over her shoulder, afraid. “You need to leave, now.”

“Why?”

“No one besides the Skywalkers should know about where Darth Vader was laid to rest, even if we do have a marker for Anakin Skywalker on Tatooine,” Rey said. “Not just because of the potential desecration and destruction. There will always be those who abuse the Force who are neither Sith, nor Jedi.”

“It’s going to blow,” Nellith realized. She then took the pike. “At least if we’ve got this, Aya won’t kill us. Come on!”

They didn’t have to wait that long.

As they tried to leave the temple, the holocron exploded, throwing them all into sand and rubble and shadow.


	35. The Tragedy of Darth Revan

“You broke a tomb?”

Nellith looked from ashen-faced Tash, with half of her braid falling out and standing with her arms crossed over her chest, to surly Jacen and then to Allana, who was as poised as she could be with dirt and ash in her hair and a scorch mark on her cheek.

“We didn’t know that our mother put that failsafe into the holocron,” Allana reminded Dr. Tharen. “And we do apologize. If we had known, we would have waited to activate the holocron.”

Nellith frowned. For a failsafe to prevent the wrong people from finding it, the explosion had gotten awfully close to killing the right people.

She supposed even a mechanical genius like their mother was bound to get some Force-activated pyrotechnics wrong every now and then.

But that didn’t stop Nellith from feeling unsettled. She supposed that it was the entire atmosphere of Korriban.

“We have Plagueis’s pike, I managed to grab it for you.” Nellith offered the pike to Dr. Tharen, who sighed as she practically ripped it out of the seventeen-year-old’s hands.

“At least some Sith history was preserved.” Dr. Tharen turned and passed it off to another aide. “I think you’ll understand when we say that we hope your visit with us ends soon.”

“It will,” Allana said, before Nellith could speak up. “Tomorrow morning we will be leaving for Endor. We won’t trouble you any further.”

Well now she was in trouble.

Especially given the semi-satisfied look on Dr. Tharen’s face. Like she didn’t like how long they were staying, but she was willing to accept it because it was better than expected.

There was no room for what Nellith wanted to do.

“I’ll take my crew back to Serenity,” Nellith said. “Prep for the launch tomorrow.”

Allana nodded, and Nellith gestured for her people to follow.

* * *

It was only once they were in the lounge of _Serenity_ that Nellith spoke the truth.

“We’ve got one more job before we can leave Korriban,” Nellith explained. “I had a dream— a vision— last night. It’s this place— I’ve been here before, you see.”

“It’s one of the Star Maps, isn’t it?” Jacen asked. “One of them was on Korriban.”

“Yes.” Nellith nodded. “And we walked by one of the locations today— Ajunta Pall’s tomb.”

In the Korriban heat, there was a sudden and swift cold wind that made its way through the closed bay doors to Serenity. A warning from the shadows themselves.

Kyp let out a low whistle. “Pall? You sure know how to pick ‘em, Skywalker.”

“Ragnos was old, but Pall. . . “ Tash looked to Nellith with awe. “He was the first Dark Lord of the Sith.”

“I know.” Nellith crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna need your help— I don’t think Dr. Tharen will let me in the tomb given that we blew up the last one we entered, and got Aya possessed in the first one.”

“You’d think they’d figure out it’s the occupational hazard of working with so many Sith Lords,” Tahiri muttered.

“Yeah, well that would require a Corellian to think about anything other than the glory of our people and—“ Jysella stopped when Jacen lightly elbowed her. “Fine. Hey, I can say it— I’m Corellian, after all.”

“You were born on Takodana,” Kyp reminded her.

“You’re an idiot.” There was a light teasing, but Nellith still didn’t like where this conversation was going.

Perhaps it was best that they would be leaving the planet soon.

“I need you guys to distract Dr. Tharen and have a fight, do whatever, so I can get into the tomb and get whatever it was I was looking for way back when,” Nellith explained. “Can I trust you guys to do that?”

Kyp nodded, no longer in that irritable know-it-all swagger. He’d sobered completely once she’d spoken.

“Of course. Are you sure you don’t want one of us to go with you?”

You, always you.

But Nellith wouldn’t say that thought out loud, no matter how it made her heart skip a beat.

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you, Kyp.” Nellith straightened the straps of her dress. “I got in there once, though, by myself. I probably can get there again.”

There was something longing in Kyp’s eyes, with unasked questions.

“Take a comm unit, okay?” He finally said. “So we can come get you if something happens to you— alright?”

“Of course.” Nellith took the comm unit, trying not to focus on how his fingers wrapped hers around the device, the touch lingering. “Thank you.”

And then it was time to go.

* * *

It was easier than she thought. A memory, or a dream, perhaps. The tomb had indeed been broken into, but not in the front door.

No, past-Nellith had been cleverer about such things as tomb-raiding. Then again, the Corellian History Society had only appeared in the last year on Korriban.

It probably was a hard pitch, Nellith thought as she crawled through a passage in the sand in her dress. Korriban did have a bit of a reputation, after all.

She finally stood as the height of the passage widened, and dusted off her dress. The fact that someone might have had to crawl behind her was enough to make her grateful that she’d gone alone.

But then she frowned. She’d seen the chamber before— but it wasn’t empty, like this.

“Where’s the Star Map?” Nellith asked aloud.

“You already visited here, once.”

Nellith looked around, whirling and trying to recognize the Force aura around her. She’d felt it before, of that she was certain.

“Are you Ajunta Pall?” Nellith asked.

A figure with a very familiar— although not exact— mask in robes appeared. The figure then removed his mask, revealing the handsome face of a younger man, pale with dark hair.

“Revan,” Nellith realized. “I thought Sith couldn’t make ghosts.”

“While that isn’t true and we both know that, remember your history,” Revan chided. “Yes, I was Sith, but I was a Jedi, too. I was both, and neither in the end.”

“Why are you here?” Nellith asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d think you’d be somewhere more important to you.”

“Well, this was an important place.” Revan shrugged as he pulled down his hood. “One of the Star Maps was here. Besides, do I seem like I care about the arbitrary rules other ghosts follow?”

“I guess not,” Nellith admitted. “But the Star Map— what happened to it?”

Revan studied her a moment. There was a glint of empathy in his eyes. “I think you have some idea.”

“While I was my sister’s Hand, she had me go after the Star Maps.” Nellith felt a dreadful twist in her stomach. “I found it, didn’t I?”

“All of them.” Revan shook his head. “Then you destroyed them, so that no one else could stop your sister from taking the Star Forge.”

“Of course I did,” Nellith muttered. “Is there any way—“

“I was like you,” Revan interrupted. “I too, had to rebuild my identity with a loss of memory. And with it, too, came my redemption. I can help you.”

“Can you show me the location of the Star Forge?” Nellith’s heart soared at the thought.

“I can do more than that,” Revan promised. “Your memories lie beneath the surface— I can push them to the top.”

“No, thank you.” The response was immediate, before Nellith had really processed the words. “I don’t need to remember the awful things my sister made me do.”

“I thought you might say as much, but I thought I’d still offer.” Revan smiled. “I did think it was a pity that you were retrieving the Star Maps for Darth Keera— you are such a clever, worthy heir.”

“I’ll do what I can now.”

“You do remind me of someone who would have made the same decisions.” Revan’s smile turned sad. “I’ll give you the true location of the Star Forge. Be careful, Nellith Skywalker. I will be watching.”

“Of course.” Nellith paused. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

The ghost’s fingertips brushed against Nellith’s forehead. And then she knew exactly what she’d helped her sister find.

It wasn’t a weapon. But it was the tool that had created the truly awesome fleets the Remnant had used against the _Princess Leia._

Nellith opened her eyes just as Revan disappeared.

She would make this right. No matter what it took. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fanfilm of Revan from 2015 is what I’m considering to be “canon” to this fic. I particularly enjoyed Tim Torres’s depiction of Revan, so that’s who I’m imagining as the face of Revan here.


	36. Voices in the Dark

Allana dreamed she was underwater. She wasn’t drowning— there was peace, here, in the dark fathoms. She felt no struggle, no fear. Just existence, in the balance between the dark and the light.

Perhaps it would have been a good dream if that was all. But that was not all.

In the dark waters, she could hear voices all around her. Muffled, she could not discern individual words or languages. But she could understand the urgency behind their words, that they were calling for her. Desperate, begging her to help. Voices that belonged to both the light and the dark of the Force, and the array that was in-between.

Then the calls became more concise, one word that she could understand—

“Allana!”

She now recognized the voices. It was Jaina, screaming it as a death cry. It was Jacen, begging her to stay with him when they rescued him from Darth Keera. It was Anakin, terrified when they woke to a house in flames.

It was Valin, begging her to save him. It was Tenel Ka, warning her to stop. It was Nellith, giving a command in battle.

Hands started to grasp at her from the dark, gently tugging at her hands, her arms, her hair, her clothes.

So many people needed her to be so many things. And yet she could not help them all, or save them all, lest she herself drown under the weight of an entire galaxy’s sorrows.

Then one cry broke through it all, causing the hands to retract, allowing her to kick her way to the surface—

“Allana!”

Her eyes flew open and she sprang out of bed injected with new life and urgency at Kyp’s cry.

She summoned her saber hilt to her hand as she scrambled out of bed and ran down the corridor of the Millennium Falcon to the lounge.

There, Valin held Kyp down in a chokehold, and had ignited his lightsaber above him. Valin’s eyes were hauntingly Sith yellow, glowing in the relative darkness.

“No!” Allana willed the button on Valin’s saber to depress, for the silver light to extinguish. She then pulled back, sharply, and the saber clattered to the ground.

It was enough time for Kyp to kick Valin. Valin went reeling back. Kyp sat up, his black curls in wild tangles, and he reached for his own lightsaber.

“No—“ Allana reached a hand over Kyp’s. “He’s not himself— can’t you feel it?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Your Worship, but none of us have really been ourselves since stepping foot on this planet,” Kyp hissed as Valin stumbled into the wall.

“No, this has been happening since before—“

Valin suddenly went quiet, catching Allana’s attention just a millisecond too late.

Her lightsaber flew out of her hand, and she was slammed against the wall and pinned by an invisible fist clenching her throat.

She tried in vain to pry it free, both physically and in the Force.

But Valin suddenly had a lot more power than she anticipated. His expression was icy cold.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Allana Skywalker?” Valin demanded.

“What?” Allana tried to wrestle free, to find a shatterpoint. “Valin,no, it’s me— what are you talking about—“

Then, just as Kyp tried to rush Valin, he was also thrown back and now held frozen, hovering in midair.

“You’re an imposter, just like him, just like everyone else!” Valin snarled, tears in his eyes. “What did you do to my friends?”

“Valin, I’m telling you the truth,” Allana cried. “I don’t— please, end this—“

Then his eyes shifted— hazel again. His power was gone, and both Kyp and Allana fell to the floor.

“Allana? What—“

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed savagely as she felt her throat. There wouldn’t be bruises, but she thought to expect them anyway.

“I— I’m so sorry,” Valin whispered. “Maybe. . . Something’s wrong with me. Something is inside me, or maybe it was always there, but the Observatory made it wake up, and I’m scared.”

“Imagine how we feel.” Allana’s voice still softened as she said it, as she sat up. “But we need all the help we can get to find Mum. We’re so close.”’

“Are we, though?” Kyp dusted himself off as he stood up. “Let’s face the facts, Skywalker— Rey also left a holocron like this on Jakku, didn’t she? And in another temple here on Korriban?”

“What are you getting at?” Allana demanded.

“This could all be some wild nerf-chase,” Kyp reminded her. “Or at least, it could be a while before we find what we’re looking for.”

“He’s right.” Valin’s face was pale. “You need to take me back to Master Solo. We need to figure out what this is, what’s happening to me. I don’t. And I don’t want this to happen again.”

“Neither do I,” Allana agreed, placing a hand on his arm as the last of her anger faded, for the time being. “But we can’t back out of this now, not when we’re so close. Besides, Mum might be able to help you.”

“Maybe.” Valin didn’t look so sure of that.

“Let’s see how he does once he’s away from Sith auras and all of that,” Kyp finally said. “Maybe it’s that stuff.”

“Maybe.” Valin didn’t seem to believe that either.

“We’ll figure this out,” Allana promised as she took his hand into hers. “I promise.”


	37. Ashes

Allana could feel the ghost of Anakin Skywalker the second that she stepped off of the _Millennium Falcon_ onto the soil of the moon of Endor.

It was not the pure cold of Thea’s presence now, or any other Sith spirit, for that matter.

No, Anakin Skywalker was fire, warm and enthralling, but also dangerous and chaotic— even in spirit.

Valin swatted at a fly as he stumbled out after her. Allana pretended not to see the shadows under his eyes, and instead was just relieved that they were hazel and not yellow.

Hopefully it would help that they weren’t on Korriban, Allana prayed. After all, everyone had been riled up by the ghosts and spirits that lay in the sands of Korriban.

Somehow, she had a feeling that Dr. Tharen and Aya Tico had no intentions of inviting them back to the dig site.

Allana waved as the crew of _Serenity_ disembarked from the ship.

Nellith responded with a salute, a teasing smile on her face.

That was a difference between them now. Another form of disconnect that was slowly consuming them both. One had a title, a destiny, and memories of the past three years and had witnessed in-person the death of their little brother.

Nellith might have had her own ship, but she also had to contend with her three years as the Empress’s Hand and whatever that meant.

Still, Nellith grinned at her like she would’ve, three years ago, and like nothing at all had changed.

“I guess we both know where we’ll have to go, don’t you?” Allana asked.

“Vader’s pyre, naturally,” Nellith said. “Honestly, Dad would be more likely to hide it there than Mum, but it’s not like Mum’s going to drop off anything at the Dameron ranch, magic Force tree or not.”

“That is true.”

“I can’t believe this,” Tash murmured. “The history texts don’t refer to any pyre or resting place for Darth Vader— there was a monument for Anakin Skywalker and the other Jedi established on Coruscant, but that was before the public discovered Leia Organa’s heritage—“

“This isn’t Vader’s resting place either,” Jacen gently corrected.

Tash frowned, confused.

“It’s Anakin Skywalker’s,” Jacen finished. “Vader died on the second Death Star when he saved his son,and Anakin Skywalker was reborn.”

Jysella shook her head. “I just can’t think of it like that. I’m sorry. This line between Vader and Anakin Skywalker— it feels like we’re trying to make them two different men, but they weren’t.”

“They pretty much were,” Tash argued. “Skywalker and Vader had such different attitudes, interactions— they shared a timeline, body, and midichlorians, but Skywalker would never have done—“

“But Skywalker chose to become Vader,” Jysella reminded them. “Isn’t it denial to pretend otherwise, with all the naming stuff? After all, at the end of the day, Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were—“

Jysella stopped and guiltily glanced at the Skywalkers. “Sorry.”

“I don’t think you were,” Allana said coolly. She faked a delicate cough, trying to regain her composure. “But I do suppose I know what you mean.”

“We know what our father used to be,” Jacen said. “And our grandfather. But they aren’t like that anymore, and don’t use those names and titles.”

“Names have power.” Nellith’s expression was haunted, and Allana could feel a strong note of lament through their bond. “Thea. . . Thea’s pretty much gone. The good in her— it was buried.”

“I want to believe that Darth Keera can be defeated and Thea can come back. . . “ Jacen hesitated. “But even I’m not sure of that. I’m trying to let go of my anger, at what she did to all of us, what she did to Jaina, to Nellith, to me—“

Tahiri placed a hand on his arm, and he was quiet.

“You saw that there was still good in me,” Nellith reminded him. “And I was complicit—“

“Not exactly,” Jacen said. “She broke you. It wasn’t your fault, what happened, what she made you do. Those weren’t your choices. Thea made hers.”

Allana thought a moment, as she stared out at the tall forests of Endor. It would be a short hike to the funeral pyre, and whatever remained of Anakin Skywalker.

For all of the talk of Sith names and Jedi names, it did bring up an excellent question, for when all of this was over— could Thea Organa be saved? Or was Darth Keera truly all that remained, as Nellith stated?

Maybe Jacen and Nellith were right. After all, since the night of the Purge, Allana had never confronted Darth Keera.

Her head spun at the thought of such dilemmas.

“We can talk about this later,” Allana decided. “Let’s just go get the holocron Mum left.”

“Yeah, let’s move out,” Nellith added, pointing out at the jungle floor. “I can feel it, we’re close to wherever Vader was.”

“I wonder if anything remains,” Tash mused aloud in a dreamlike voice, as if she did not realize that she had said such a thing out loud.

Nellith, Allana, and Jacen all shared a look.

“The helmet’s not there,” Allana offered in a small voice as they began walking into the foliage. “We know that for sure. But I doubt anything else remains. It’s been half a century since his death.”

Valin shuddered. “I hope we don’t find anything from the body. That would be so gross.”

“I agree— can we not talk about this anymore?” Nellith asked, both hands placed on her temples, acting as blinders to the conversation at large.

“Yes, sorry.” Tash coughed to hide her discomfort.

It wasn’t very long before they were at the base of rotted wood and burnt metal and plastic and other alloys.

This was where Darth Vader was laid to rest. Allana saw what they had been looking for, right on top of the pyre. The Jedi holocron that belonged to their mother.

Seeing no obvious traps, she took it. They could decode the meaning of it later.

Then they heard a rustling in the trees.

“Get your weapons ready,” Allana warned, drawing her own double-bladed lightsaber.

Everyone else was quick to follow suit.

Then out of the trees came several little bears at about knee-height— Ewoks, Allana realized with relief.

“Yub-nub,” one said, curiously approaching.

Allana knelt down, pulling out a ration pack. “Food. We’ve parked nearby. We’ll be leaving soon enough.”

She could sense a sort of friendliness and recognition from these little creatures. Then it clicked.

“You knew our grandmother, Princess Leia,” Allana said. “You helped us fight off the Empire. Thank you, little friends.”

A very loud snort seemed to come from Nellith, who truly must’ve taken after their paternal grandfather, as Allana could sense a strong dislike of the friendly creatures from her.

“We mean you no harm,” Allana insisted. “We’re friends.”

“Yub-nub.”

And then the Ewoks walked away, leaving everyone else to wonder what was even the point of that encounter.


	38. Charted Course

Nellith did like the skill of being able to start a fire with her mind.

The sun was setting, and while Allana had handled the Ewoks well enough that they wouldn’t bother the crew of the _Millennium Falcon_ or _Serenity_. But Nellith, like her grandfather before her, didn’t trust those little bastards as far as she could throw them.

“I’m pretty sure they’ve eaten people,” she informed Tahiri when the blonde Jedi laughed at her refusal to stay in the Ewok village. “They tried to eat Grandpa once!”

“Like Grandapa Han didn’t deserve it sometimes,” Jacen had teased.

But then there was the sobering fact that Tash had exposited at them: Ben Solo was most likely conceived in the Ewok village during the post-Death Star victory party.

Nellith, in no uncertain terms, informed her that it was gross that Tash knew that, and asked her as politely as she could manage to kriffing please not talk about things like that.

Tash did admit later that she should’ve kept that bit of speculation from the history texts to herself.

But the damage was done and it was thoroughly decided by the three children of Ben Solo present that there was no way in the nine Corellian hells they were visiting the Ewok village.

But that left them with the problem that it got cold on Endor at night.

Thus, Nellith started a fire with the Force. Jacen walked her through it— apparently before she’d captured him as the Emperor’s Hand, he’d had to do it on some mission or another.

It was quite simple, on the technical level. It was causing the molecules to speed up and heat— until fire sprang from the wood.

It made her feel more powerful than lightning or lifting rocks ever could, in her opinion. It was like something in a holodrama about Jedi.

But now they had a roaring fire and could enjoy cooked rations packs as two crews.

Well, except that the _Falcon’s_ crew retired sooner. Allana took her rations pack with her when she was the first to leave. She’d wanted to investigate the new holocron they’d recovered, and figure out where they would go next.

Valin ate his rations silently beside Jysella before handing the majority of them to her, and then retiring to the Falcon without another word.

Kyp nudged her as the loading ramp closed.

“Are you sure we should let him go?” Kyp asked. “Alone with your sister? Especially after last night?”

“Allana can handle herself.” Nellith kept her tone even, her words diplomatic. “She can make her own choices.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be bunking in the _Falcon_ on the next hyperspace flight,” Jacen promised. “I don’t like what happened.”

“Look, I don’t either.” Nellith tried to avoid looking at Kyp, and the scarf he’d wrapped around his neck to cover the bruises from Valin’s chokehold. But her blue eyes were drawn to it all the same, a reminder of the time-bomb aboard her sister’s ship. “But Allana still wanted him on this trip, didn’t she? You said he offered to leave and go back to Tatooine for help.”

Kyp was solemn. “I don’t think Allana’s unbiased when it comes to Valin.”

“Ew.” Jysella stabbed her fork into the rations, mixing them around. “Can we not talk about my brother’s love life, please?”

“It’s relevant right now.” Tahiri shrugged. “If Allana and he are, you know, hooking power couplings, then we know that she might not be thinking with the clearest Jedi vision.”

“That is gross.” Jysella threw down her fork in disgust. “I am _not_ having this conversation! I’ll be in my bunk!”

She stood, about to leave, when Nellith gently caught her by the wrist.

“Please, answer me one question before you go,” Nellith pleaded. “What do you think about all of this?”

Jysella pulled her wrist free, but met Nellith’s gaze, thinking for a moment.

“Something else is inside of him, something that they found on Jakku,” Jysella said. “You heard it— he didn’t recognize Allana, and they supposedly carry a lightsaber for each other. And my brother couldn’t do a Force choke if he tried.”

Nellith blinked, the realization dawning on her like lightning.

Without thinking, she looked to Kyp, who nodded imperceptibly.

She looked back to Jysella. “Thank you. You can go now. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jysella sighed. “Whatever, I’m probably just tired. See you when we’re in hyperspace to wherever.”

And with that, she stalked off.

“I guess we did kind of push it too far,” Nellith mumbled. Her own rations now looked unappealing, and no amount of heat or spices would be able to fix that.

“Look, we agree then, Allana’s not being objective about what’s happening to Valin,” Kyp said. “I didn’t always get along with him, because he was always such a goody-goody Jedi like his father, but I at least thought we were friends.”

“And friends don’t pin friends down on a table,” Tahiri finished.

“We should go back to Master Solo, then,” Tash added. “It’s only logical. If someone or some other force is giving him whatever dark flashes are happening, then we’re in over our heads. It definitely wasn’t Korriban that did this, and Jakku is a far less documented planet.”

“Lovely,” Nellith muttered. “Who wants to break into the _Falcon_ then and break Allana the news? Because I know every girl wants to be embarrassed about her crush.”

“She has a point.” Tahiri stole a bit of rations from Jacen’s packet. “And we might want to consider waiting, because Rey is more powerful and wiser than any of the other Masters.”

“You think she might be able to help Valin more than Dad can.” Nellith nodded. “Honestly, I think that makes more sense.”

After all, Allana, through Ben, had confessed that it had all happened after visiting Palpatine’s observatory. Her mother had clearly visited the ancestral site— perhaps she knew something about whatever the Sith Lord had left there?

“Let’s try to at least make it one more place before we consider sending Valin back,” Nellith suggested.

“He nearly killed me,” Kyp warned. He tugged away the scarf, showing the full brutality of it. “I didn’t get the fancy Force choke like Allana did.”

Nellith reached out, her fingers hovering over the black and blue imprints on his neck. He winced all the same, but did not flinch away from her touch.

“You almost killed many students on Yavin IV,” she gently reminded him. “We gave you a second chance. Because you were being influenced by Exar Kun.”

He bit his lip, saying nothing.

But he didn’t have to.

She could sense so much about him from his very aura in the Force— but it was more than that, she decided. A connection of a sorts between them, like what a captain and second-in-command should have.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt.” His voice was low. “And you know I care about Valin— I want to give him a second chance when all this is over. I heard Jysella— it’s not his fault— I saw the eye color change, too. But I’m not going to pretend that we aren’t playing with loaded blasters here.”

“You’re right,” Nellith admitted. “But Mum could help us.”

“That’s true.” Kyp sighed, then throwing his empty packaging into the fire. “I just don’t like it.”

“I get that.” She offered no further arguments, explanations, rationalizations. The conversation, in this matter, was over.

But Kyp wasn’t done talking.

They all stared a moment at the flames of the campfire before he did speak again.

His emerald eyes were wide on her. “I can’t imagine what this place must be like for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nellith glanced about. “It’s all ancient forest— same as you, right?”

Kyp coughed. “I mean that your great-grandfather was put to rest here.”

Nellith stared into the depths of the fire. Just like what took Anakin Skywalker in the end. . .

“It’s not as bad as it would’ve been for Anakin.”

There was a held breath amongst the circle remaining at the campfire. Everyone knew they weren’t talking about Vader anymore. Just as everyone knew that it was the first time they’d spoken about Anakin Solo after Darth Keera murdered him.

“He struggled with it all of his life,” Nellith murmured. Her face felt numb. She supposed she’d cried enough over the past weeks. “He was named after him. Mum didn’t mean it to become what it did.”

Kyp said nothing, listening. And that gave Nellith the courage to continue. It was like a dam inside of her had finally been shattered by the floodwaters.

“He always feared he’d become a second Vader,” Nellith added. “Some beings, who lived long enough to be around during the Clone Wars— they said that the Hero With No Fear and Anakin, that they were made of the same stuff.”

“You don’t think he did?”

“I know he did.” Nellith looked back to him. “You knew him— he was so quiet and studious and yet, he could be so reckless and brave, when others were in danger. He cared nothing about himself— he was just so kind.”

“I remember.”

“Sometimes I think that the best of all of us, that the light of the Jedi died when he did,” Nellith whispered. “He was meant for such great things, everyone said so. And yet. . .”

“It was all cut short,” Tahiri muttered.

She held Jacen a bit more tightly.

Kyp then reached out and swiped the tears off of Nellith’s face. She hadn’t even realized that they were there.

“I’ll do it,” Nellith vowed, speaking not even to herself, or anyone there, physically. “I’ll make every prophecy about him come true. I’ll make them all come true, someday. I’ll be whatever he was supposed to be— but I’ll remember always, who was supposed to be there.”

In the distance, she could see two translucent blue figures.

One was a man with curls around his shoulder.

The other was a boy with dark hair and the saddest eyes.

Her brother’s ghost. He reached out a hand, and Nellith reached to touch him— only to feel the icy air.

The ghosts disappeared, leaving Nellith reaching out to empty night air.

“Nellith?”

Kyp’s voice coaxed her back into the land of the living.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” She wiped the last remnants of her own tears away. “I. . . I think I’ll be in my bunk.”


	39. Echo

It wasn’t obvious where the next place was. But it didn’t take Allana all that long to figure it out. Instead of her mother speaking, it was the recording of Luke Skywalker speaking— not with any of the Force in it, like it was once his holocron or anything. No, the quality of the image revealed that Rey had recorded with the holocron a recording from Luke on a datapad or some other holo device.

“It was outside Echo Base, on the wastes of Hoth, that I saw the spirit of Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Luke smiled. “I never expected to find him when I was hanging upside down in ice, about to become a wampa’s lunch. Luckily, thanks to his intervention, I was able to be freed.”

He then went on about the strength and clarity of his connection to the ghost of his mentor, only to be matched by Dagobah in its intensity.

Despite Rey taking on his surname, Allana had almost never heard about Luke from her parents growing up. Some of the other Jedi spoke of him fondly, yet distantly. None of them had ever known him, after all. He was just the myth, the legend.

Any time she’d asked about the mysterious third member of the trio that had saved the galaxy from Palpatine the first time, her father or mother would grumble incoherently, in a way that suggested the topic to be off-limits.

Allana wondered why, staring at what remained of the Jedi’s mind. Ghosts didn’t stick around to give the living any idea of what they were like.

But anyone could see in this copy of his holocron what a bright and strong young man he was. Filled with conviction to his ideals, his very eyes revealed a deep empathy and ability to love.

This was the man that had seen good in Darth Vader, after all. That had found it within him to forgive a man who had committed the atrocities in the history texts, and saw him for what he truly was— a man.

Would he have found the light within Darth Keera? Or would he have thought that Thea was gone forever, as she suspected her siblings did.

But given the subject matter of the holocron, it was easy to figure out where they were supposed to go next: Hoth.

To Echo Base, specifically.

* * *

Allana drew her cloak more tightly around herself as she left the relative warmth of the _Falcon_ to the ice cold snows of Hoth.

The sky had become a dark and moody blue-gray above them, and the winds whistled between the mounds of snow.

In the sunlight, according to the holos, the place was supposed to be beautiful, like living in diamonds. But Allana could not imagine that Hoth, not now.

They’d landed on an old launch pad for the Rebellion. It had suffered the wear of the snows of Hoth, but the landing lights still glowed in the wake of the war.

Despite it being nearly sixty-years prior.

Serenity’s crew disembarked as Valin left the _Falcon_.

“Well, this is just perfect weather for a picnic, isn’t it?” Nellith grinned as she pulled some goggles up from where they dangled around her neck.

“Let’s hope Master Skywalker made it warm in there,” Kyp grumbled, clutching his own cloak more tightly around himself. Allana recognized the cloak as a gift that her own father had given him back when he first joined the Order.

“Come on, then,” Allana said. “We’d better get a move on. You think anyone would bother our ships?”

Artoo was on the _Falcon_ , after all, but _Serenity_ —

Nellith laughed. “Trust me, no one wants our Ugly. And even if they did, I doubt anyone’s been here in a long time.”

“Right.”

They took a step forward, and Valin fell face-first into the snow.

“Valin!” Jysella cried, rushing to help her brother.

“I’m okay,” he assured her as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. “I’m okay. It’s just— it’s so strong. The light—“

Allana and Nellith exchanged a glance. “It’s dark, Valin.”

“I don’t mean the physical world.” His voice was hauntingly slow. “Beyond it— or just under it. Humming under the surface, the light— it’s beautiful, it—“

“We’ll get him back to the Falcon,” Jacen said. “Tahiri and I can handle this.”

“Let me help,” Jysella begged, as Jacen and Tahiri lifted her brother out of the snow. She followed on their trail, and Allana felt a surge of guilt sour her stomach.

She had done this.

She’d asked him to push forward, despite whatever was happening to him.

She hoped that here, she would find Rey.

Or else she had pushed him to wherever he was now for nothing.

* * *

Echo Base had been empty since the Rebels were forced to abandon it in the Battle of Hoth. Fifty-six years had passed since anyone had set foot in here, it seemed.

Allana’s footsteps echoed in a ghostly chorus with the rest of the group. For all of Valin’s words about the light, Allana did have to admit that he was making some sense.

As they delved deeper into the abandoned Rebel Base, Allana felt a peace and clarity that bordered on eerie. No chaos, no passion, just harmony and serenity. It was the pure Light Side of the Force, humming just underneath the surface of reality, threatening to upheave all of it.

But Allana didn’t sense Rey at all. Not even the trace that had been present at the other sites where Rey had left a holocron.

It was in the computer room, where they found another holocron.

“Again? Seriously?” Nellith groaned.

Allana picked it up and attempted to open it. But it wouldn’t. She tried again, trying to sense a flicker of whose aura resided inside it.

“There’s nothing?” Anger came from the bottom of Allana’s stomach, coursing through her blood, drumming on her temples. “SHE LEFT US NOTHING!”

Allana threw the holocron against the wall, and it shattered.


	40. The Holocron Puzzle

As soon as she had done it, Allana regretted it. She looked to her twin, distraught, before diving to the ground to try and pick up the shards.

“What have I done?” Allana whispered.

Then, for just a moment, Echo Base was silent. The computers stopped chirping. The wind quit howling. And the shards of the holocron in her hands reformed in a burst of red light.

Then the vision of her mother appeared.

“Connect the pieces, and you’ll have your answer.”

The holo disappeared— it was cryptic and concise. While Rey wasn’t always like that, she certainly had her moments.

“We need to take this back to the _Falcon_ , then,” Nellith said, placing a hand on Allana’s shoulder. “I bet the pieces connect, and they’ll tell us where Mum is.”

“I hope they will.” Allana pocketed the holocron, taking far more care after her episode of anger. She had almost lost her mother entirely because of her impatience.

But still, a part of her wondered how much longer she would have to wait as she picked herself up off the floor. She sighed and followed her sister out of Echo Base.

She could only hope the end of the chase would come somewhere.

* * *

Everyone, including Valin, sat and stood around the dejarik table. Jysella darted into the room, arms filled with the other holocrons.

“Jakku, Endor, Korriban, and now Hoth,” Jysella said. “This is everything Master Skywalker gave us.”

“This is everything we need,” Allana said, even though she wasn’t entirely convinced, herself. “I guess we just. . . Meld them together?”

Kyp nodded. “One of us for each holocron.”

He then placed his hand over the one they took from Korriban. “I’ll help open this.”

“I’ve got the one from Jakku,” Jacen added.

“I’ll take Endor.”

“I guess that leaves me with Hoth,” Allana said.

They then closed their eyes, reaching out with open hands and feelings. Their focus went to opening the holocrons— up in general, and towards the others.

To reconnect, to become one.

Just like the Force.

Allana opened her eyes to see the holocrons bonding together. Red and blue light stretched out in forked lightning, embracing the golden pieces and forcing it all together.

In the center, hovering about a foot above the table, was a holocron in a shape that Allana had not seen used for a holocron before.

It was a large polygon that glowed violet as it locked together and set itself back down onto the dejarik table.

All eyes were on her now.

With an elegant flick of her wrist, she opened the holocron.

The purple transparent holo of her mother appeared.

“Mum— where are you?”

“The time has finally come, my daughter,” Rey said, her face stoic— ominous, even. “It is time for the Jedi Queen to take her throne and end her sister’s betrayal of the Force.”

Valin frowned, but Allana decided to ignore it.

“We can’t stop Darth Keera without you, Mum,” Nellith insisted. “Where can we find you?”

Rey smiled— but it was a different one than the sunny joy their mother usually wore on her face. It was more coy, more reminiscent of her Palpatine lineage.

She then held up a map that enlarged, a beautiful blue-green that complimented the reddish violet glow Rey was cast in.

“These are the coordinates, a system in the farthest explored edge of the galaxy, in the Outer Rim,” Rey explained.

Tash was quick to scribble them down.

“Find me, and we’ll make quick work of your sister.”

With that, the holocron closed.

Valin shook his head. “That’s not Rey.”

Allana felt like her stomach had fallen into a bottomless pit.

“We’ve gotta move fast,” Kyp said. “This is how it starts— he’ll believe we’re all imposters—“

“This isn’t a delusion— can’t you see it?” Valin cried as Kyp wrenched his arms behind his back. “Allana, Master Skywalker doesn’t speak like that, her expression—“

Allana had noticed those things. But was it a coincidence that Valin, most likely entering whatever dark state he went into, noticed them too? Or was it a warning to look closer—

“Allana, you have to believe me,” Valin panted. “It’s a trap, something’s got Master Skywalker, and it’s after us now—“

Allana froze, and then shook her head. “Put him in the smuggling compartment. There’s ventilation there, but he won’t be able to get out until we drop him somewhere safe.”

“You have to believe me, please, Allana, please!”

Allana forced herself to turn around, moving gracefully as the Chume’da should. She imitated Tenel Ka’s stoic expression. She would have to make difficult decisions like these once she ascended.

She had to be strong, for the crew of the two ships on the mission.

Still, she let herself shed a single tear as she heard the fighting and screaming ensue, only to be silenced by Jacen knocking him out through the Force.

Nellith was the first to return to her side.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It had to be done.”

“I know.” Allana swiped a tear away. “Tash has the coordinates?”

“She’ll punch them in, and Jacen and Tahiri will stay here,” Nellith promised. “Jysella’s coming back to my ship. She doesn’t want to hear him when he wakes up.”

“Thank you.”

Nellith nodded. “It’s no problem.” She then leaned in. “We’ll find her this time. You’ll see.”

Allana swallowed. “I hope so.”

Nellith smiled sadly and swaggered back into the cold. Tash darted past her exiting captain.

“I’ll get the hyperspace coordinates punched in, don’t you worry a bit!” Tash sat in the first mate’s seat. “Ooh, this is such a clever ship. Your sister might like Serenity, but it’s not the Falcon.”

“I understand what you mean.” Allana was more listlessly responding with what she thought would appease Tash more than anything else.

Within a few pushes of buttons and turning of dials, Tash was done.

“You should be ready to go for the uncharted planet,” Tash promised. “Good luck— and may the Force be with you, Your Highness.”

“May the Force be with us all,” Allana replied.

She then took her place at the captain’s seat. After the others had disembarked and returned to Serenity, Jacen and Tahiri joined her in the cockpit of the _Falcon_.

“I’ll send a transmission to Dad once we’re in hyperspace,” Jacen promised as he took the first mate’s seat.

“And I’ll make sure that Valin stays incapacitated once we land,” Tahiri added. “I’m sorry, Allana. You made the right choice— he was starting to not recognize us, the way he fought.”

Allana winced at a bruise on her brother’s forehead. “I’m more sorry for you— he was your friend.”

“And he still is,” Jacen assured her. “He just needs some help, when this is all over.”

“I agree.” That didn’t stop Allana from doubting her decision, whether or not Valin saw something that the rest of them couldn’t. . .

But this was not the time. Allana had made her decision, and now the goal that she’d sought after for so long was in reach.

Soon, the entire family— or what remained of it— would be back together again.

“Let’s go.” And Allana hit the button confirming the route. Then all she saw were stars.


	41. Galaxy’s Edge

As soon as they jumped out of hyperspace, Nellith knew something had gone wrong.

All of the lights flickered, and _Serenity_ started to drop into the atmosphere of the planet below. Nellith detached the commlink wired to the speakers.

“This is your captain speaking— head to the escape pods, it looks like it’s gonna be a bumpy ride,” she said. She hung it back up with a faint click and tried to regain control of the ship. But no matter how many buttons she pushed, no matter how she tried to wiggle the joystick or flip switches— _Serenity_ didn’t respond to her commands.

The shields were faltering against atmospheric resistance. Fire streaked the sides of the craft.

Nellith realized that she was going to die on _Serenity._

“Come on,” she whispered. “Come on, I know the legends about you, surely you can—“

But in the end, this brand of Ugly wasn’t the ship of myth and legend after all, Nellith realized. It was just an old ship that she had a good feeling about.

Was the Force wrong, sometimes? About destiny and all of that?

Nellith was at least grateful that the others had left—

That was when Kyp Durron burst into the cockpit.

“Come on, Nellith, there’s no saving her,” Kyp said gently. “We’ve gotta go.”

Maybe once, Nellith would’ve insisted that she go down with the ship. That she wasn’t important enough for anyone to care if she did.

But now she understood one thing— she would be needed to find the weapon Revan spoke of, and to fight against the Star Forge.

There was more than that, too. Nellith realized that as she accepted Kyp’s hand. There were others who cared about her, destiny or no. And she couldn’t destroy them that way, by destroying herself.

She followed Kyp into the last of the two escape pods.

“I convinced Tash, Jysella, and Artoo to go,” Kyp explained. “Told them I’d save you— now come on.”

“Thank you,” Nellith said as she crawled into the escape pod. Just in time, they pressed the button to eject, and soared to the planet’s surface.

* * *

Nellith was the first to emerge, and she was almost blinded by the brilliance of the sun. They were on a land made from stone pillars of various heights and widths, with a sea breaking against the stony shore.

“Strange land,” Kyp muttered as he joined her, shielding his eyes. “Where is this place?”

“I have no idea,” Nellith admitted. She turned around. There were caves and such in the distance, and as she looked farther inland, there was plant life growing on the pillars.

But she also saw more wreckages— the second escape pod, the _Falcon_ , and _Serenity_.

“I guess we can’t fix it, can we?” Nellith asked sadly.

“The scrap might at least help out the _Falcon_ ,” Kyp suggested. “I’m sorry— I know you loved that ship.”

“It was a chance to break away from all of the Skywalker legacy.” Nellith had finally said what she wouldn’t admit even to herself. “I just wanted something that was mine, since I never was important.”

“You know, the _Falcon_ isn’t really a part of Skywalker’s story,” Kyp pointed out. “You know the most important person who flew that ship? Han Solo, who made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs—“

“Twelve is rounding down,” Nellith scoffed, remembering her own father’s words on the subject.

“But he’s still a legend,” Kyp added. “And he was a nobody from nowhere on Corellia. And so what if you’re a Skywalker? You were always going to be important.”

He then took her hand. “At least, you’re important to me.”

Nellith raised an eyebrow. “You tried that on every girl on the Praxeum, didn’t you?”

“Is it so hard to believe I might like you?”

“Well, I think it was nearly every young Jedi’s fantasy that the dreamy Kyp Durron would take a fancy to them,” Nellith teased. She then saw the door to the _Falcon_ open. “But we can talk about all of this when it’s all over.”

Kyp’s grip on her hand tightened. “I’m with you till the end.”

“Thank you.” That was the closest Nellith felt she could get to saying ‘I love you, too.’

But they understood each other all the same. 

Allana and Jacen emerged from the crash of the _Falcon_. Tash and Jysella lifted Artoo out of the second pod.

“Tahiri’s making sure that Valin will be secure where he is,” Jacen explained. “And that he isn’t hurt.”

“How’s your ship looking?” Nellith asked.

“She’ll need repairs.”

Nellith pulled off her leather jacket and tied the sleeves around her waist and weaved the sleeves between the straps of her belt and holster. It was hot and humid on this planet, she was realizing.

“Luckily, my ship’s toast, so we’ll have plenty of parts to work with,” Nellith said.

Allana’s face fell. “Oh Nellith, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Nellith undid her three buns and redid them into two— an easier style to do on the fly. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that she was jealous that her twin’s intricately braided Hapan hairstyle was still impeccable, not a hair out of place.

Then again, Allana never had Nellith’s thick curls. None of the children of Ben and Rey did, except for Nellith and Anakin.

“He’s fine, and he’s not going anywhere,” Tahiri announced as she left the _Falcon_. “Should we fix this, or go find Rey?”

“We could split and cover more ground that way,” Jysella pointed out.

Jacen groaned. “That is how we all get killed. We are not splitting up.”

“Well, fine, we’ll have to make a decision, then,” Nellith said.

“I think we should go find Mum, especially since she can help us fix all of this.” Allana gestured widely at the wreckage. “It’s weird— it’s like the planet has some kind of energy field around it—“

“It’s old,” Kyp declared. “Very old. We should be careful.”

“I agree.”

Allana then pulled the holocron out of her pocket, and had it hover in midair as she moved her hands around it, in deep concentration.

The holocron unlocked to show Rey once more.

“You’ve followed my instructions— now I can guide you further,” Rey said. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

Nellith frowned— her parents called each other sweetheart, but never the kids. A part of her immediately went to Valin’s declaration.

Was there any chance he was right?

But that was the beginning, according to Kyp. He would have delusions that no one was who they said they were. And then he’d go crazy on some dark side power.

What the hells was even up with that?

Nellith shook her head. She couldn’t have these doubts, not now. That was the danger of the deluded, she decided. That they could poison the minds of the others. They sowed doubt like rain on Kamino.

The figure of Rey on the holocron disappeared, and it floated toward one of the caves, in a pattern of flashing lights. It was a rudimentary tracking device.

“I guess we follow it.”

They then entered the underground caves. It wasn’t long before they came across a door— one with a handle that had to be turned.

Kyp let out a low whistle. “This is ancient.”

“I guess we go in,” Jysella muttered.

“Well, I’ll open it.” Nellith did so, and entered what seemed to be more caves— but there were faded paintings of a figure Nellith recognized from holos and nightmares.

“It’s Snoke.” Jacen was the first to speak.

“It also looks like the Prime Jedi’s depictions,” Tash added. “What if—“

Tash leaned in to the carvings. “Snoke was once imprisoned somewhere— it doesn’t say where. But he was in fact the Prime Jedi.”

“It says here that he ripped the Force into two— the light and the dark,” Nellith said. “I’ve been here before, I think. This place feels familiar.”

And not in a good way.

“You understand this dialect of ancient Killik?” Tash asked.

Nellith shrugged. “You tell me.”

“Snoke was here or?”

“I don’t know,” Tash finally said. “The former Supreme Leader of the First Order is one of the greatest mysteries of our history. We have more sources on Palpatine’s return than Snoke’s origin.”

“Let’s keep moving,” Jacen suggested. “I don’t think we want to stick around for very long.”

They kept ascending a staircase, until they saw another door.

“I’ll go first,” Jacen said. He opened it, and nearly dropped his lightsaber in surprise.

Nellith drew hers. The temperature dropped to a level that made Echo Base seem warm.

“Hello Jacen,” Darth Keera sneered. “Did you miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we’re caught up to where we were on FFNet. Next chapter will come out when it does on every platform. Thanks guys for making it this far.


	42. Dark Journey

They had entered the upper level of some kind of old temple. With pillars throughout the room, it was made from cool white stone and was immeasurably old. Pools and fountains, still propelled by the nature that had provided it, were scattered around the room.

Darth Keera was flanked by other Acolytes and apprentices from her Shadow Academy. Keera herself was clad in a black lace gown, her hair in a curled version of their mother’s signature style as an adult.

It had been a trap— somehow.

Jacen was pale, but resolute. He summoned his lightsaber back to his hand but did not ignite it. Allana noticed how Tahiri placed a hand over the small of his back, an invisible and reassuring gesture.

“What are you doing here?” Nellith demanded, holding Jaina’s lightsaber up.

“I’m afraid that the path to our mother was gone a long time ago,” Darth Keera drawled. Before Allana could tighten her grip, the holocron flew to Darth Keera’s hand like a well-trained kath-hound. Then she shattered it.

“No!” Allana blurted out.

“I’m afraid that you were not following Mother’s holocrons, as I found the one on Jakku and corrupted it when I could not discover its secrets,” Darth Keera explained. “It was easy to fabricate the rest and send you into my little trap.”

 _It had all been for nothing._ Allana felt numb. It really had been a nerf-chase in the end. She’d let Valin’s condition deteriorate for _nothing_.

“Well, now you’ve got us,” Jacen finally said. “What are you going to do about it, Thea?”

He sounded so tired, so resigned. But her name was like Luke Skywalker’s famous shot at the Death Star— perfect in timing and impeccably precise.

She seethed, baring teeth that seemed unnaturally sharp. Her apprentices behind her ignited their variety of red lightsabers.

“I am no longer that foolish queen!” Darth Keera snarled, although there was a strange vulnerability in her features. “I am the Empress of the Imperial Remnant! I conquered that which Sidious and Snoke and even our puny father could not— Alderaan!”

“And at what cost?” Jacen, to his credit, still spoke as calmly and coolly as one would to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. “Zekk left you. Your family no longer stands beside you. How much longer are you going to let Darth Plagueis stay in your head?”

“Don’t you see?” Darth Keera spun her dual blade casually. “He and I have become one. The girl you once knew it dead. She was a fool, who did not understand the power the dark side brings.”

Allana couldn’t help it, she shook her head. _This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening._

Was that it all along? Had her sister simply been power-hungry? Her sister never seemed the type.

“No one is gone forever,” Jacen said. “And I believe that if our father could fight Snoke, if our mother could fight Sidious, and so could Vader, my sister can fight Plagueis.”

For a moment, Darth Keera faltered. Her golden eyes turned hazel, she seemed smaller— more frightened— she opened her red lips to speak—

But before she could cry for help, the facade of Darth Keera returned.

“This is no fairytale,” Darth Keera sneered, her voice returning to a similar sound to Thea’s. “Mummy and Daddy won’t save you. Love won’t save that girl I left behind.”

Jacen shook his head. “I don’t believe that. No matter how much you hurt me, Thea, I never believed that you couldn’t be saved. I’ve found it in myself to forgive you. Come with us. We can help you. We can stop this before it’s too late.”

He offered his hand out.

Darth Keera seemed frozen, struggling as she reached out— only to then swipe with her saber.

Jacen quickly retracted his hand and ignited his saber.

“I’m afraid that won’t be happening,” Darth Keera declared. “I need your power, your life-forces. Now that I can no longer force you to do Battle Mediation for me, dear Jacen, and I no longer have my most accomplished Hand, I must take new cautions to maintain my new Empire.”

“Then come and take it from us!” Nellith taunted. “You can’t face all of us and win!”

“Actually, I can.” Right as they were abut to attempt an attack, the Jedi crew was lifted into the air, tendrils of energy going to Darth Keera.

Allana gasped— she could feel her consciousness fading, and was so tired. Any attempt to look to the Force for help was just like when she had cut herself off from it.

Darth Keera’s very coloring was more vivid, and she seemed to be glowing. As Allana felt herself from fading from her own body, she realized that Darth Keera was becoming immortal— cheating death in the step that Plagueis had never discovered, but Sidious had.

Was this the end?

“Stop!”

The Jedi fell to the ground. Allana managed to get the strength to prop herself up on her elbows. At the entrance of the temple stood the silhouette of Valin. He did not have his lightsaber, as they had confiscated that back when they first put him in the cargo-hold. He looked disheveled, as if he’d fought a thousand rancors to get here.

“What are you doing?” Allana screamed.

“I knew Rey wouldn’t say what she did in the holocron,” Valin panted. “And I won’t let you hurt my friends.”

“You don’t have the power to oppose me.” Darth Keera and the other apprentices laughed.

Valin looked straight to Allana. “I’m sorry.”

Allana shook her head, desperately trying to gather enough strength to stand. “Don’t try it— don’t let it take you— you have to fight it, the power isn’t worth it!”

She knew what he was going to do— as did Darth Keera.

“You think a disease I unleashed will save you?” Keera laughed.

“It can’t hurt.” Valin’s eyes turned Sith yellow. In a flash of light, the ceiling of the temple began to crack.

“Valin, stop, you’re going to kill us!” Jysella yelled.

Darth Keera merely laughed. She then stretched out her hand, pointing at the Jedi crew. Suddenly, Allana couldn’t move— she was frozen. “You can die here.”

The cracks in the ceiling started to converge.

“Let’s get out of here,” Darth Keera said, and she and her apprentices scattered out.

That was when the pieces of the ceiling fell.

It took all of Allana’s strength to break free and summon her lightsaber. She ignited it, making a hole in the floor big enough for them all to go through.

Valin’s eyes were hazel again as he tried to catch the roof. But it was too much for him— they had seconds, Allana knew it.

She finished tracing the saber in the floor, and pulled everyone close to her, and then pushed them all away as the temple caved in completely.


	43. First Steps

First there was silence in the darkness, as everyone’s senses adjusted to the change. In the dimness, only broken by faint sunlight peeking through the rubble burying them in the underground tunnels and caves, she saw Valin’s body lying unconscious, blood on his temples.

She crawled over to him, unsure of the size of the space. She shook his shoulder, not knowing what else to do. He groaned, and his eyes opened.

“I’m sorry, Allana.” He coughed hoarsely. “I know I shouldn’t have done it— but I couldn’t let her hurt you and I gave into the dark. I finally understand it now.”

“No, no, this is my fault.” Allana shook her head, tears stinging at her eyes. “I ignored what was happening to you, because I was selfish. Because I wanted to see Mum again. Even when you wanted to go back to Tatooine, I insisted we continue on. And it was all for nothing.”

Sobs started to wrack her body, and she let go of Valin, turning away. She was unable to face him. Her bad leadership had brought them here.

What would they do now?

She drew her knees to her chest, burying her face in the soft-silken fabric of her pants, gathered around the knee.

She could feel the presence of the surrounding Jedi reaching out to her, but she pushed them away, put her shields up.

She’d done this, after all. How could anyone absolve her of that?

She couldn’t lead a group of Jedi to find her mother. She’d failed completely.How would she be a queen to Hapes? How could Tenel Ka trust her with her people when Allana was such a fool?

The darkness of her own grief, her own anger at herself, it built a wall of darkness in her heart, sapping what was left of her strength, her courage.

Some of the others withdrew from her, stopped trying to reach out.

But some didn’t.

Jacen and Nellith still tried, as did Valin.

“Let me in,” Nellith pleaded, placing her hand on Allana’s shoulder.

“Let us help you.” Jacen took one of her hands, Valin the other.“You don’t have to be alone.”

“There’s plenty of blame to go around,” Valin added.

Allana finally looked up. For a moment, her tears blinded her, but she could see as Jacen turned his head towards Valin.

“We know who’s to blame for your condition,” Jacen added. “Thea is. She did something to make it happen. She’s the one who changed the holocrons, lured us here. Yes, we all made mistakes. But to blame ourselves for what happened is to remove the responsibility Thea has in all of this.”

“She’s so far gone,” Allana whispered. “I don’t understand. Why did she choose to bond with Plagueis? Why did she turn to the dark side?”

“Only Darth Keera could tell us that,” Nellith said. “I don’t know, maybe there was something always bad inside, and it was just waiting to get out.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Jacen scolded. “The same was said for Dad, for Mum, could be said for any of us. We’ve all got the dark and the light inside. Good and evil, too. Thea made her choices— but that doesn’t mean that she can’t or isn’t worth saving.”

“After all,” Tahiri finally spoke, “some thought you didn’t deserve redemption.”

“It’s not a matter of what she deserves.” Allana swiped away her tears. “It’s a matter of what kind of Jedi we want to be.”

“Jedi who believe in love,” Tahiri said.

“That love can save the galaxy,” Jysella added. “Because it has and it did.”

“And that love can bring anyone back,” Valin finished.

“I’m not sure we can just keep waiting and hoping for Thea to come back,” Nellith admitted. “I just don’t know. She’s done so many awful things. And while service to evil is still evil— it’s different, you know?”

“I’m not saying that forgiveness or redemption is easy,” Jacen said. “But forgiveness, at least? That’s not about Thea— it’s about us.”

“I think we have a long way to go before those questions can be answered,” Nellith finally said. “First we need to get out of here.”

“I don’t even know where we are,” Allana admitted as she stood. “In relation to anything else, I mean.”

“Well, all we can do is take the next step.” Jysella and Jacen helped lift Valin. Jacen looked to Allana. “Listen to your feelings, Allie. Reach out. You’ve got good instincts. Sometimes we’re wrong— but prove yourself right. Get up, and try again.”

Allana nodded and closed her eyes. “I can do that.”

And then she felt it. A familiar presence— the feeling of home.

She opened her eyes to see a glowing blue butterfly on her hand.

“Hello there,” she murmured.

The butterfly flitted away, and then hovered expectantly a few paces away.

“I think it wants us to follow it.”

The party advanced, weaving through caverns and holes, following the butterflies, until they were in a cavern full of them, flying all up and down the walls.

In the center of the room, on a little stone altar, was a blue holocron.

Allana’s breath hitched. She reached out tentatively, stopping herself just a few inches before she could touch it.

She didn’t need to open it to know that it belonged to Rey. She knew now how the other holocrons were covered. After all, her parents did have a peculiar affinity for blue butterflies.

“I think that Rey was here,” Allana murmured as she picked it up. She placed it into the satchel hanging around her waist. “She did leave a message for us after all.”

“Aren’t you going to see it?” Tahiri asked.

Allana shook her head. “We need to go home.”

She then looked to the butterflies. “Lead the way.”

* * *

They came out to the very same caves they’d entered. The wreckages of both ships were still intact, untouched by Darth Keera and her crew.

Nellith pulled her hair back. “Let’s get to work. We’ll be flying in no time.”

“Take us home,” Allana said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I couldn’t resist referencing Wonder Woman there.


	44. The Message

The suns were rising on Tatooine when the _Falcon_ made planetfall.

Nellith landed the _Falcon_ expertly on the makeshift spaceport. It seemed that the Jedi had moved quickly in restoring their Praxeum. It wasn’t restored to its former glory quite yet, but many structures had been put up, or were in progress of being made.

It was beginning to look like home again.

Nellith hadn’t realized how she’d missed the _Falcon_. For all that she’d loved having her own independent ship, she had to admit that this ship carried far more than any other ever could. It was history, a legacy— as Kyp had described.

She could feel her co-pilot’s eyes upon her. She knew that they would have far more to discuss when they disembarked.

But they had work to do now.

“Home sweet home,” she said as she unbuckled the safety restraints.

Outside, Ben Solo was waiting for them, alongside Tionne Solsaur and Kyle Katarn. Nellith knew that Allana had made a transmission while they were in hyperspace, but she didn’t know how much they’d been told.

She suspected, however, that part of it was what had happened to Valin over the course of the journey.

Ben Solo regarded all of the party with solemnity— his eyes searching for Rey, but not finding her. He bit his lip, presumably disappointed.

“I see we’re going to have a lot to discuss,” Ben said. “Lucky for us, we’ve constructed spaces where we can debrief away from snooping Padawan eyes.”

* * *

After they finished their tale, the Masters exchanged a knowing look.

“You should have come back straight after Jakku,” Katarn said. “Clearly there’s something strange going on around the Observatory, and I don’t like it. Places like that have too much influence on a Jedi.”

“We’ll make a note in our archives that the Observatory is dangerous to Jedi,” Tionne said.

Ben said nothing.

“Luckily, I think Goldenrod might know something about whatever Sith-spawn Force disease Darth Keera let loose into the galaxy,” Katarn said. “It seems Keera’s gotten into all of the old things.”

“She’s merged with Darth Plagueis somehow,” Allana said. “We don’t know the details, but she confirmed it in the temple of the unknown world. She let Plagueis in her mind, and he’s influencing her.”

“It must have been during her Trial of the Heart,” Ben said. “I was not given details about what Queen Evaan had told her to do, but she had to complete the trial to become the next Queen of Alderaan. She was gone for months. We’ve been such fools.”

“How did none of us figure it out?” Jacen asked. “We should’ve been able to sense it, we should’ve seen it coming—“

Katarn reached over the table and clapped a hand on Jacen’s shoulder. “We can play that game all day and all night son. That’s not going to help your sister at this point.”

“Besides, there’s clearly more going on than we know,” Tionne said. “What’s more important is that we make a plan for going forward.”

“It would have been nice to know where Rey was, though.” Katarn leaned back in his chair wistfully. “We could use her insight— she brought you back from the dark, after all.”

Ben looked to Allana. “You said that you did find a genuine holocron from Rey?”

“Oh, right.” Allana pulled aside her cloak and retrieved the holocron from her satchel. She placed it down on the table.

The Masters exchanged another look.

“We’d better take a look,” Katarn said.

“I’ll open it.” Ben’s voice was hoarse. He outstretched a hand, and the small glowing pyramid opened to reveal the blue holographic form of Rey.

“Ben, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry. I discovered the task that Alderaan had put her up to— they wanted her to retrieve the robes of the ancient Alderaanian Qel-Droma Jedi dynasty, that were lost on Korriban, as a symbol of her overcoming the dark.”

Rey then shook her head. “But that part doesn’t matter. Plagueis got her. The Sith master who trained Palpatine. He’s got our daughter, and worse than how Palpatine and Snoke had you.”

“Where are you?” Ben asked.

Rey smiled sadly. “I can’t tell you that, Ben. Thea and Plagueis are interfering with Force bonds, among other things. She’s learned the Ancient Ways of the Sith, and she has far too many tools at her disposal. I can’t have her risk finding me before I’ve finished what I’m doing.”

“I can help you, just tell me where you are,” Ben pleaded.

Rey shook her head— her holographic self was crying.

“I can’t. I’m looking for a way to save our daughter, but I can’t risk her finding out.”

“She’s already looking for you.”

“Then you can’t!” Rey’s expression turned fierce. “It would destroy everything— and I can’t lose any more of my children! You have to let me do this.”

Ben swallowed— he was also crying. “I just wish there was another way.”

“It won’t be forever, I promise.” Rey managed to smile again. “We’ll be a family again soon. I’ll let you know through our bond. I know I can break her interference— but when I do, you’ll have to come quickly, because it will send out a flare in the Force, letting Keera know where I am.”

“I’ll come back for you, sweetheart,” Ben vowed. “I promise.”

Rey blinked— even though this was a pre-recorded bit of her soul, programmed to respond as she would, Nellith could sense her mother being touched by that statement, across the entire galaxy, who knew how many stars apart.

“I love you,” Rey said. “We will be together again.”

And with that, the hologram vanished. Everyone was silent, contemplating what Rey had said.

“What do we do next?” Nellith asked.

Ben took a deep breath. “It would be best to take you and Allana to Coruscant— they’re hosting the Senate hearing there.”

“For Sam and Danni,” Nellith realized. “I thought the Senate operated on Chandrila now?”

“Coruscant’s chamber is bigger than Chandrila’s, and everyone is sending a delegation to decide on whether we will go into war yet again,” Ben explained. “Rumor has it that Tenel Ka is sending a delegation to hear out the New Republic.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Nellith said, standing up. “I have a feeling our own testimonies will be necessary?”

“Especially now,” Ben confirmed. “It might not feel like much, but it’s what you can do.”

“Then we’ll do it.” Allana rose as well, looking like a queen. “We have a duty— and I’m ready.”

Nellith had a feeling she was talking about more than giving testimony to the Senate.

She was talking about the Hapan Throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this wraps up the end of the second major arc. Two more to go— the next one, as you might guess, involves Hapes, politics, and plenty of explosions. Can’t wait to share what comes next. Thank you for all of your support!


	45. Declarations of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back, with the third arc of the story. I hope you guys enjoy the next act of Nellith and Allana’s story.

The Senate Building had been empty in Coruscant since the day the Emperor had dissolved it— nearly sixty years prior. Even after the Empire had fallen, the Senate building was not the tourist attraction that the Imperial Palace was, and thus had fallen into disrepair.

That is, until the events leading up to the day of the hearings.

It had been cleaned, the floating Senate booths tested and restored to working order. The large corridors outside of the Senate floor were filled with people. Historians, holo-reporters, and mere civilians were all there, paying witness to the history about to be made.

Nellith leaned into the wall next to the booth for Chandrila. That was where Finn and Rose Tico were sitting with Sam and Danni, waiting for the session to begin. Beaumont Kin, the Senator for Chandrila, was whispering to Sam and Danni some last-minute tips for the testimony.

She remembered that her mother didn’t like Beaumont Kin all that much— claimed he was a bit of a know-nothing know-it-all.

“He’s more smug than a smuggler after a game of pazaak,” Rey would always grumble the few times they visited the planet in her childhood. “He’s always telling me about some text or another that he found that surely reveals more about the Force than I know— never mind that it’s some source Tionne wrote—“

“It’s all so strange, isn’t it?”

Nellith turned her head to see Kyp emerging from the crowd of mixed Jedi and Poe Dameon’s aides.

“My great-grandmother was once here,” he said, leaning against the other side of the opening. “She was a Senator for Deyer, while the Imperial Senate was still active Never thought we’d ever be here again. You can feel it.”

“The corruption.” Nellith nodded, looking back into the chamber. “Palpatine wasn’t the only evil that was built here. So many— and they weren’t trying to be bad people, most of them. They wanted to help, and they made sacrifices. . .”

“But in the process, they lost their hearts, all of them.”

Nellith noticed the dark fire in his eyes, the strange ferocity of his expression.

“Staring into the heart of it all, I don’t wonder at all why Vader destroyed it all.”

Nellith blinked— she couldn’t be hearing right.

“You’re not siding with Imperial ideology, are you?”

“What?” He looked back to her, and blinked— all the sudden ferocity gone. “No, Nellith— just because I understand doesn’t mean I agree with it. I can just see why Vader got frustrated with the bureaucracy.”

Nellith frowned. “It’s more than that. Don’t lie to me.”

Kyp glanced into the chamber once more before looking back to her. “You know Deyer was the first casualty of the war.”

“There isn’t a war yet.” At the same time, Nellith knew exactly what he was talking about.

Deyer was the last great battle of the Second Galactic Civil War, or so the history texts read.

The Remnant had fled there and remained there for a long time. Despite all attempts from the New Republic to free the world, the Remnant of the First Order maintained an iron grip on the world.

Nellith remembered when Kyp Durron had become a student at the Praxeum, because of how he had helped her mother win the Battle of Deyer, that freed the planet at last.

But training at the Praxeum, freeing the people of Deyer— that didn’t bring his family back.

And he was a boy then, only thirteen years old. A boy with powers far too great, and who still held rage and unprocessed grief and guilt in his heart.

That was why Exar Kun had called to him, from lightyears away. That was how he almost ended up becoming the new host for the ancient Sith Lord, almost ended up becoming a great Sith himself. . .

That was, until Ben Solo had stopped him.

“Your battle with the dark side is never over.” Ben had always said it to them wearily, the few times they spoke about his past as Kylo Ren.

Nellith for the first time saw that in Kyp Durron.

“You think if that there was less bureaucracy, your parents might’ve been saved.”

“And my brother and sister.” There was the dull roar of applause from the Senate chamber, and so he looked out into the sea of politicians. There was something reserved and guarded about his face, like the vault in the side of the Falcon

Nellith paused. “I never knew you had a brother and a sister.”

“You wouldn’t want to hear about them.”

“I would,” she insisted, blue eyes luminous.

He managed to smile again, although it was sad. “I’ll tell you sometime later. I think they’re about to start.”

Indeed they were, and Nellith was not sad that in their discussion, they had missed Chancellor Connix’s opening remarks.

Instead, Beaumont Kin had flown the little deck with Sam and Danni into the center, right by the Chancellor’s small tower.

“Thank you, Kaydel,” Senator Kin said with a courteous nod, ignoring how Danni and the Chancellor were staring daggers into him. “I am here with the only survivors of the disappearance of the Princess Leia one standard month ago. They would like to speak and clarify what exactly took place on that ship because the galaxy deserves to know.”

“Yes, thank you, Senator Kin.” Sam stood, wearing the dress uniform of all New Republic military officials, and looking rather dashing in it. “I was assigned to the patrol duties of the Princess Leia for half of the standard year as we were supposed to monitor the border between Hapan space and New Republic territory.”

Sam turned to face a new side to the room. “We were attacked out of nowhere, by ships from New Alderaan. They boarded the ship and disabled our guns and escape pods. We could not fight back, we could not leave.”

“That is where I come into this story,” Danni interrupted gently. “The _Princess Leia_ was working on experiments for new technology in our military, and Dr. Xux was the head of our research. She tasked me with returning a disc containing all of our research to the New Republic, as well as a box containing important cargo we’d received from a pick-up on Naboo.”

She took Sam’s hand as she continued to speak. “Dr. Xux and I requested Private Tico’s assistance in escorting me and the cargo off of the _Princess Leia_. We had to sneak into the hangar bay through the vents because otherwise we would have been slaughtered attempting to reach the hangar through conventional means.”

“We almost did face trouble in the hangar proper,” Sam said. “We were met by Mical Janus, a former advisor of Thea Organa, who now goes by another name, as Organa does. He declared himself a Sith Lord and attempted to kill us.”

The very mention of the Sith caused a gasp to rise in the Senate chamber. Nellith could’ve sworn she saw a Togruta woman swoon.

“We were forced to steal a TIE from our invaders and make a crash-landing on an outer moon of Hapan space to escape with our lives and Dr. Xux died to save.” Danni’s voice was solemn.

Nellith reached a hand up to her neck. She felt as if her heart were stuck in her throat. She had been the cargo in the box. She hadn’t realized it— but the crew of the _Princess Leia_ had died to save her.

Who was she to deserve that?

“We were lucky that Tenel Ka Djo chose to take us in and deliver us back to Republic Space,” Danni finished. “We were lucky to escape from the Imperial Remnant with Dr. Xux’s life work.”

“Now is not ideal, but at least you still have a chance to save us.” Sam was handsome, even in his righteous anger. He had a charisma that reminded Nellith more of Poe Dameron than Finn Tico in the old holos. “The Jedi were slaughtered by the Remnant three years ago— nearly four, now. Rey Skywalker is still missing— we were lucky that the box contained Nellith Skywalker, one of her missing daughters, who was able to rescue Jacen and Ben Skywalker!”

Nellith could feel holo-cameras turning to her. Whispers started— after all, despite that the public had referred to him as Ben Skywalker, they now knew the truth because of the broadcast from Darth Keera.

They now knew that the Last Jedi’s children were also those of the Jedi Killer.

“The blood of Jaina Skywalker and Anakin Solo are on your hands!” Sam snarled.

There was another round of gasps. Jaina had been well-known as a young Jedi Knight and as Wedge Antilles’s protege before she disappeared. And everyone had known about the legendary Anakin Solo, who was called by that name to distinguish between his great-grandfather and himself. They’d seen him tag along as the cute child at her mother’s hip, straight into battle.

Nellith felt as if her heartbeat were choking her and was only faintly aware of the tears. It wasn’t fair, that lights as bright as Jaina’s and Anakin’s had burned out.

Why did she deserve to live when they had died at their sister’s hands?

“It’s alright,” Kyp whispered into her ear, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“You should have avenged them long ago!” Sam’s anger then faded to sorrow. “We cannot change what we have done. But we can do what is right now. You owe it to all of them, especially Rey Skywalker, to declare war. To fight the Imperial Remnant.”

Then the entire Senate broke into a cacophony of accusations, outcries, arguments.

Kin retreated the pod into the wall, but the damage had been done.

“And now the debating begins,” Danni said, shaking her head as Kyp and Nellith helped her and Sam out of the pod.

“But we’ve swayed them,” Sam promised. “There’s no way they’ll ignore it this time. They attacked several branches of the military, first the Jedi and now a peaceful patrol ship— they’ll think twice before denying the Chancellor’s motion, for all that they’ll bicker about it.”

“I guess now all we can do is wait, then,” Nellith sighed. She folded her arms over her chest and looked to see a young woman in a white lace cloak rush over to her sister. They spoke in hushed whispers before the girl in the cloak tugged her away.


	46. Second Chance

Allana hadn’t the stomach to watch the testimony. Instead, she stayed with the others in the corridor, chatting and making political small talk while occasionally giving the holo-screens mounted on the wall a nervous glance.

She had been away from politics for so long, and yet it was in her blood all the same. She still knew the coy smiles, the sharp and enchanting games with words. How to say nothing with as many words as possible.

It was a second nature,easier than the Jedi she’d been raised as. Or would have. Her training had only just started, and she would have been assigned a master to study under soon.

But then the Purge happened.

Allana blinked. She saw something familiar, in her peripheral vision. She suddenly smelled the Hapan blossoms of Madrassa.

She turned to see a figure in a lacy white cloak weaving in and out— dark green eyes locked onto Allana’s face.

“Vanya?” Allana whispered as the handmaiden approached.

“Amelia, you have to come with me, now,” Vanya hissed as she fell into place at Allana’s side.

“Why? What are you doing here? Are the others here?”

Vanya’s voice dropped into a whisper so low that Allana strained to hear it, even with the Force amplifying her senses.

“Tenel Ka is here.”

Allana’s eyes widened.

“Take me to her, now.”

“Gladly.” Vanya grabbed Allana’s wrist and tugged her along, to one of the lower-level corridors. In a room once used for backdoor negotiations like Bail Organa and Padme Amidala.

The mid-day sun shone through the simulated slats in the window, which barely dimmed the glare. Inside of the room was a long table. Along the sides sat all of the Handmaidens of the Chume’da, all clad in robes of white lace with scarlet gowns peeping through. While they all looked fairly similar, there were enough minute details that registered as a sort of white noise to the eye that made the similarities less suspicious, unlike with the handmaidens to the Queen on Naboo.

Members of the Chume’doro in their finest armor lined the walls and the doors to the chamber, making it impenetrable to all would-be assassins.

At the head of the table, however, sat none other than the Queen Mother herself. A seat next to Tenel Ka Djo remained open. Vanya hurried to her seat, avoiding eye-contact with the queen.

It had been about a standard month since Allana had last laid eyes on Tenel Ka Djo. Despite her stoic features, there was something amused about her lips, playing at her icily beautiful features.

Clad in a violet silk gown with dragons embroidered onto the skirt in black, there was a long cloak-like vest made of an olive material that gave her more of the appearance of a military leader. Her crown was subtle and subdued, woven into intricate fiery red braids as was the custom style of the witches of Dathomir of the Singing Mountain Clan.

Every trinket and every style choice worn by the Queen Mother had a history and a meaning. And Allana knew many of the stories— although not all. And she had not learned them from when she became the princess, but rather, from before, when she would visit with her father.

To others, Tenel Ka’s cold gray glare would cut them to their very bones, making them drop and beg for mercy for whatever offense they had committed.

However, Allana knew how to play the game like a Hapan. Tenel Ka and her tutors had taught her well.

She strode over to the remaining chair and sat down.

“Sallan, Your Majesty,” Allana said, switching to Hapan. Like her mother, she was good with languages, and had taken to the beautiful, river-rhythmed language with ease.

“I am pleased to see you once again, Amelia,” Tenel Ka said. “Even if I dislike being misled and lied to. Your handmaiden, Sansa, did a very good job. Lady Serra had no idea what I was talking about when I asked where you had gone.”

“We knew we couldn’t fool you, Your Majesty,” Allana said, meeting Tenel Ka’s gaze. “I apologize for the deception. It was necessary, as I had unfinished business to take care of with my family. You did say that you sent me to find closure in that regard, and I have.”

“I did say that.” Tenel Ka was merely stating it, no real inflection to it, her eyes unreadable.

Tenel Ka herself was like a misty morning on Ahch-To, mysterious and full of emotions far too old and vulnerable to be named.

“I had to help find my father and rescue my brother, and later my sister, from Darth Keera,” Allana said. “I was able to do so, and return the Jedi Order to our home on Tatooine and begin the effort to rebuild what Keera destroyed.”

“I had heard about the return of the Jedi and saw the holo-recordings of your sister’s escape from New Alderaan,” Tenel Ka said. “I had no idea you were involved. Where have you been since then?”

“Looking for my mother,” Allana answered. “We thought we found a lead, but fell into a trap from Darth Keera. We were able to escape, however.”

“Obviously.”

“I then found a message from my mother,” Allana finished. “She does not wish to be found right now.”

“How curious.” Tenel Ka’s eyes flicked to the holo-monitor on the wall. “I am truly sorry about Jaina. I had not felt her passing, although I should have. She was a firebrand, a hope to us all.”

Allana’s throat felt tight as she nodded. “Her ghost managed to contact us— she passed her title and her saber to Nellith.”

“So that is what happened at the execution.” Tenel Ka’s eyes narrowed. “How interesting. It sounds like you’ve been up to quite the adventure in the past month. And I cannot blame you— you have been doing important work for the Jedi and your family.”

“Thank you, _Erenedi_.” Allana bowed her head, secretly breathing a sigh of relief. A part of her had expected Tenel Ka, her parents’ friend to understand. But a part of her, the one who had experienced Queen Mother Tenel Ka, feared the worst.

“I see that they are discussing whether or not the Republic will engage your sister’s forces in the war,” Tenel Ka said. “Do you think they will support a war?”

“Yes.” Allana wasn’t all that sure, but in her heart, she wanted to believe it.

Tenel Ka nodded, seeming to accept that. “I will speak to the Chancellor before the vote.”

Allana nearly leapt out of her chair in excitement. “You’ll support them in a war?”

Tenel Ka shook her head. “No, I’ll invite both parties to a peace conference. Hapes will open its borders as a broker of peace, not just some fleet of war dragons to be commanded by a foreign power— even if Chancellor Connix would be a worthy woman.”

“But you know that the Remnant is evil,” Allana protested. “You can’t seriously be considering negotiating with the Sith?”

“I can, and I will,” Tenel Ka said, her one hand outstretched on the table. She tapped her ring-clad finger with precision. It might have seemed random to another, but Allana recognized the code— her father and Tenel Ka had developed it as children in Luke’s failed academy, and Tenel Ka had taught her when she visited, once.

More than I can say, it meant. Trust me.

Despite her misgivings, she wanted to believe that there was indeed more to this ridiculous proposal than there seemed to be on the surface.

Allana swallowed and bowed her head once more. “I will do as you command, _Erenedi_. I just ask, that before I return to Hapes, that I may return to the Jedi to say goodbye.”

“Of course.” Tenel Ka’s eyes twinkled. “I am not a monster.”

 _No, but we both are dragons,_ Allana thought.


	47. Force Psychosis

“I’ll miss you while you’re away again.” Nellith hopped onto the bed, right next to the open trunk, where Allana was packing away her clothes and things. “I mean, we just got rooms and real beds again— you’ll be missing out.”

Allana smiled as she turned, folding a tunic. “Well, there are plenty of beds on Hapes, so I suspect I won’t be missing anything.”

“Fancy kriffing Hapans.”

“Language.”

Nellith rolled her blue eyes. “I really will miss you, though. We only just got back together again.”

“I have a duty to a people.” Allana placed the folded tunic in the trunk, taking care to make everything about it neat. “I don’t get to just drop it the second it becomes inconvenient. Even if I took it on under different circumstances.”

Nellith leaned back, kicking her boot-clad feet into the air and placing her hands over her stomach. “I thought Tenel Ka didn’t force you to become the Chume’da.”

“She didn’t,” Allana assured her. “But I don’t think I would have taken on the responsibility had I known for certain that my powers would come back. I did not know any other way I would be able to contribute to the fight against Darth Keera, without the Force.”

“And yet people like Danni Da Dameron seem to manage it just fine.”

“Come on, you know what I mean.” Allana took down the final cloak and inspected it for dirt or soot from blaster-fire. “It’s different, when you’ve known the Force all your life. To suddenly be without it. . . It’s like losing a part of you. Not just an arm or a leg, though. A part of your soul.”

“I couldn’t imagine it,” Nellith admitted. “I don’t remember if I felt you or not, back before the whole amnesia thing.”

“I don’t think you could,” Allana said. “The others said they couldn’t, and I doubt Keera wanted to risk that I’d be able to find and intercept you, while you were doing. . . Whatever it was, that you were up to.”

“Right.” Nellith was immediately less exuberant, less bright in the Force. “Promise you’ll be careful, at the peace conference. I know Tenel Ka used to be a Knight of Ren with Dad, and that she’s an old friend and all that, but I think she’s crazy if she thinks that Keera can be reasoned with.”

“I think so, too, but I can’t disobey the Queen Mother, especially as her heir.” Allana closed the trunk, setting the lock with her birthdate. “Don’t worry, I’ll still have my lightsaber. And I haven’t seen it, but I’m pretty sure Tenel Ka still has hers.”

“When is the _Coral Wyvern_ coming?” Nellith asked.

Allana shook her head. “Different ship coming. _Star Home_ — the royal cruiser. It’s like a city.”

“Crazy-rich kriffing Hapans.”

Allana sighed and shook her head with a smile. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“Me either.” Nellith sat up and hugged her sister. “But we’ll meet again— the galaxy won’t be able to tear us apart for so long again.”

“Right.” Allana separated from her sister. “I’ve just got some quick business to take care of, and then I’ll be at the spaceport, waiting for the envoy.”

“Valin business?” Nellith raised an eyebrow.

Allana could only breathe and nod.

* * *

She entered the medbay, where Masters Tionne and Clighal were standing. Inside an examination room, Valin sat patiently on the end of the examination table. There were dark circles under his eyes, and perhaps it was a trick of the eye, but he looked more gaunt.

The sight of him reminded her that it was her fault that his condition had deteriorated to this far.

Tionne and Clighal looked triumphant, however. Although it was a bit more difficult to tell on Clighal. Allana still wasn’t very good at reading the emotions of the Mon Calamari.

“We were able to discover the name of young Knight Horn’s condition,” Master Clighal said. “Tionne was able to find it in old Jedi texts.”

“Force psychosis,” Tionne said. “It’s a plague invented by ancient Sith from Exar Kun’s era. It targets Force-users, and possesses them with the dark side. They see everyone who is not infected as impostors, and are given great and terrible power with the dark side.”

“Great,” Allana said. “Did the texts say how to cure it?”

Tionne shook her head. “There was more, in a holocron by Bastila Shan— but my team, back when I worked with Dr. Tharen, was unable to actually recover the missing record from Typhon.”

“It could be somewhere else, like the Valley of the Jedi,” Allana suggested. “I wish I weren’t going back to Hapes, or else I’d go looking for it. . . “

“It’s not your fault,” Master Clighal said sharply. “Perhaps Rey would have known how to cure the disease. Even if she did not, you did not release the plague. That was Darth Keera’s doing. Do you understand?”

“I should have gotten him here sooner, I shouldn’t have let it get so bad. . .”

“You shouldn’t have,” Tionne acknowledged. “But the damage is done, and despite the rumors, Jedi cannot actually flow-walk and change the past. What’s done is done, and Valin knows about the severity of what has happened to him.”

“Can he fight it?” Allana dreaded the answer she knew was coming. But hope did spring eternal.

Tionne and Clighal both shook their heads.

“I’m afraid not,” Tionne said. “My notes state that even the most principled Jedi would be unable to exert more than a little control over their dark states. Valin has told us this much. He has managed to fight it for periods, but it will still come out.”

“Poor boy,” Clighal murmured. “He was such a good Jedi, just like his father before him.”

Allana glanced into the viewport, just as Valin did. And she jumped.

His eyes were Sith yellow again.

Before she could shout or raise any alarm, the viewport’s glass shattered. Allana raised her arms to shield her face, and then grabbed her lightsaber, as did Tionne and Clighal.

“Valin, we don’t want to fight you,” Tionne said. “You have to try to fight it—“

“You just said he couldn’t—“

“Well, we’re out of options,” Clighal interrupted.

“You’re not Master Tionne, you’re not Master Clighal,” Valin snarled. “Where is the real Tionne and Clighal?”

“We’ve been through this.” Tionne’s voice was still calm, maternal. “The Force is lying to you, Valin.”

“We’re not lying to you,” Allana said.

Valin’s eyes locked onto her. “They’re lying to both of us— they’re Sith, they’ve done something to the real Tionne and Clighal—“

“He recognizes you?” Tionne murmured, expression on her blue face stunned.

“Valin, listen to me, they’re really trying to help you—“

In from another level came Mirax Terrik and Jysella Horn.

Valin outstretched a hand, levitating his mother into the air.

“Where are you and what have you done to my real mother?” Valin demanded.

“Valin, let go of Mom!” Jysella cried, wide eyes transfixed at their mother, writhing in the air.

“Goddammit, I’m your real mom, now put me down!” Mirax shouted, trying to reach for her blaster in her side-holster.

“Jysella, please, help me.” Valin looked to his sister, expression pleading and confused. “I know you’re really you— you have to see them for what they are.”

“I—“ Jysella faltered, and her eyes turned yellow as well. “What have you done to our Mom, Sith?”

“Jysella, no!” Allana reached out, unsure of what she wanted to do, hoping everything would just _stop_ —

In a blinding flash of light, everyone was thrown back, and Mirax fell to the ground. The Horn siblings took advantage of the distraction and took off.

Mirax pulled a comm out of her jacket. “Hey, Ben, we’ve got a problem—“

Allana sprang to her feet and sprinted out of the building, drawing on the Force as she did so. But she couldn’t catch up to the Horns.

As she left the Praxeum, she saw Mirax Terrik’s ship, the _Pulsar Skate,_ soaring out of Tatooine’s perfect blue sky.

She halted in her tracks, stunned.

They were gone, in the blink of an eye. And they were dangerous.


	48. Tales of the Jedi

“Well, there goes another member of our crew,” Kyp muttered once the former crew of _Serenity_ had reconvened in one of the balcony rooms that had been built into the new version of the Praxeum.

“I didn’t think we’d be taking flight for a long time, anyway,” Nellith confessed. “We destroyed our ship. And while we can now use the _Falcon_ , I imagine that Dad probably wants to keep us and Jacen and Tahiri closer. Especially now that Valin escaped and infected his sister with the disease.”

“Master Tionne was telling me about that.” Tash drew her knees up to her chest from where she perched on the low wall of clay and sand that acted as a railing. Her blue eyes were haunted. “Force Psychosis is a terrifying disease. It was the work of the ancient Sith. . . Who created it, no one knows, but they think it might have been Marka Ragnos. Or even Snoke.”

As the binary suns sank, it grew colder.

Her father’s monster had resurfaced in a horrifying way, even with his spirit gone for good.

“Things are pretty bad, then.” Even Kyp couldn’t keep up his good humor. “It’s too bad, though. If we could’ve taken away the Star Forge as a source of power for Keera. . .”

“I’d forgotten all about our original mission,” Nellith confessed. “But I did find a lead on Korriban.”

“Wait, really?” Tash blinked, eyes brighter and wider. “What did you find?”

“It was in the tomb of Ajunta Pall,” Nellith explained. “I found Revan’s spirit there. He advised me not to go after the Star Forge, and instead to look for a weapon of similarly ancient technology to destroy it.”

“How ancient are we talking?” Kyp frowned.

“I remember this was recorded, what Revan had discovered about the Forge.” Tash’s eyebrows knitted together. “A species predating the Old Republic, before even the days of Hutt space.”

Nellith blinked. “He suggested something by the Killiks. They’re suitably old.”

“Where are we going to find something that the Killiks built?” Kyp asked. He then looked out at the horizon. The suns were almost extinguished by the ocean of sand.

“Master Tionne would know, it would be in the ancient texts.” Tash leapt down from the balcony wall. “I guess we should go to the Archives. Master Tionne mentioned to me how they had managed to recover even the texts from Ahch-To that Rey and Luke Skywalker discovered.”

“Mum’s texts!” Nellith leapt to her feet. “I would’ve thought the fires would’ve destroyed them. . . “

“Those were buried underground at the Kenobi House.” Tash shook her head. “Darth Keera never made it there, after all.”

“But going through all of it would take forever,” Kyp pointed out. “And it requires ancient dialects of Selkath and whatever other bantha fodder old languages—“

“Yeah, the database isn’t back online yet.” Tash bit her lip.

“We don’t need a database, not when there’s a droid that’s learned it all.” Nellith gestured for the other two to follow her. “Threepio knows literally everything. I think that droid was programmed as a failsafe. I mean, it was created by Anakin Skywalker, after all.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Kyp joined the others in standing. “Where is Goldenrod?”

“He should be with the younglings,” Nellith said. “He’s a very good babysitter.”

Kyp looked rather doubtful about that statement.

“He looked after us when we were kids,” Nellith insisted. “When Mum or Dad couldn’t.”

“I thought the other Jedi did that.”

“Sometimes.” One of the facts of having two of the greatest Jedi in the Order for parents was that they were gone a lot. They never liked it, either of them.

Rey would always cry and assure them over and over that they would be back. Ben was quieter, but there was that same haunted look on his face whenever he left that he had whenever they talked about Snoke or his past on the dark side.

Han and Leia had been gone a lot, too— also through no fault of their own. It seemed that putting the galaxy back together would be a hero’s job, even when the war was over.

Peace, it seemed, wasn’t an option if you saved the galaxy.

* * *

On the first floor, in one of the corridors off to the side, the younglings were playing in a large meditation room, where, for the most part, the younglings were playing quietly and behaving themselves. Some were sitting in a circle around Threepio, asking him to tell a story.

“Threepio!” Nellith called. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Mistress Nellith!” Threepio looked to her. “I am quite pleased to see you. Unfortunately, I am telling these younglings the story of the Ewoks and the time they thought I was their god!”

“A good story,” Nellith acknowledged. “But I have a few urgent questions. Won’t take up much more of your time.”

“Urgent!” Threepio looked from the younglings back to Nellith. “I suppose I can take a moment for an urgent question, Mistress Nellith. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Nellith paused, thinking of what to ask first. “Did my mother upload the Jedi texts into your database?”

“Yes, Mistress Rey always felt that droids like myself and Artoo could be trusted with sensitive information to the Jedi,” Threepio said. “Of course, I was mistaken about the alignment of Mistress Thea.”

“We all were, Threepio.” Kyp’s tone was comforting.

“Do you know anything about the weapons the Killiks built?” Nellith crossed her arms over her chest.

“The Killiks built a great many structures, including space stations that could be used as weapons,” Threepio said. “The oldest and most powerful was an inspiration to Galen Erso when he developed the Death Star.”

“You say that like we’re supposed to know what it is, Goldenrod,” Kyp said.

“Wait a minute.” Tash placed a hand up. “Is it Crseih Station?”

“Heavens, no!” Threepio threw his hands up. “That structure, while old, was commissioned by the Old Republic when the Crseih Star began its crystallization that fascinates scientists.”

“It’s not Exar Kun’s on Yavin IV, is it?” Kyp asked.

“I am surprised that none of you have heard of it,” Threepio said. “Especially because your father visited as a child, Mistress Nellith.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Centerpoint Station?”

“Why, yes, it was determined by recent archaeologists to have been constructed by the Killiks,” Threepio said. “It has the capacity to be a weapon of great destruction. However, it has only been available for use as a space station because the master controls imprinted on Master Ben.”

“Meaning?”

“Only Master Ben can authorize the most secret functions of Centerpoint Station,” Threepio clarified. “Now, I must really attend to the younglings and finish my story.”

With that, he returned to the circle of now-impatient younglings.

“I guess we should go tell Master Solo about this,” Tash said. “He could get on the Falcon right now and use Centerpoint Station to take down the Star Forge!”

“I guess we go find him now,” Kyp said, turning to Nellith. “Where can we find him, anyway?”

Nellith was about to hazard a guess when she sensed her father’s presence behind her. It was like the waves of Ahch-To, calming and pleasant, but with a hidden storm that threatened to rage and overflow. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Ben said. “And we’re not going to Centerpoint Station— not yet.”

“Why not?” Kyp spoke before Nellith could. “We could end this war right now?”

Ben nodded towards the younglings, indicating for Kyp to lower his voice. “We could do that, Durron, but I need our best knights on Hapes.”

“For the peace conference,” Nellith realized. “We can’t strike while the Republic is negotiating with the Remnant.”

“But that makes it the perfect time!” Kyp gestured emphatically. “Their forces won’t know what hit them!”

Something flashed in Ben’s eyes. “We will not be doing that. It’s not our way, to strike an enemy while they are asleep.”

“It is if it gets the job done,” Kyp snapped back. “The Remnant isn’t interested in peace. We’ve known this. The Republic keeps dragging their feet— and Hapes interfered when they were finally about to actually do something to help their people and the Jedi.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as you think it is, Durron,” Ben said. “Tenel Ka was the only one of the Knights of Ren to side with me on Exegol. She’s a cunning warrior and a loyal friend. And a Jedi, if you have forgotten. She is no friend to the Sith and the Republic. She is planning something, to save us all.”

“You want us to wait it all out, then?” Nellith didn’t like the idea.

“No, I want you to join the delegation of Jedi attending the conference,” Ben said. “Master Katarn is leading the delegation. Tenel Ka has privately requested that our best Jedi go.”

“We can do that,” Nellith said. “We’re taking the Falcon, then?”

“Yes.” Ben hesitated. “And keep an eye out for the Horns. And any other Jedi that may have contracted Force Psychosis. Strange things are happening.”

Indeed, Nellith thought, they were.


	49. Tenel Ka Chume’Dan

Allana stood in the private parlor of the _Star Home_ , the one where the royal family could enjoy the flight in relative peace, without much interference from servants or nobles alike.

It was strange, to be among these stars again. Already, Allana had forgotten so many things that she had learned from her first stay in Hapes.

She’d need to recall them quickly, if she wanted to survive. Madrassa had been a shelter away from the conniving silver tongues and poisoned daggers of the rest of the Hapan court. But she would no longer be residing there, as she had learned when the _Star Home_ first entered hyperspace.

Tenel Ka had sat with her, Hapan tea on top of the table. It was an acquired taste, but Allana had come to enjoy the taste of the Hapan teas. They might have been unbearably sweet if not for the pleasantly bitter undertones, sharp as a double-bladed sword.

Allana had approached the tea table with some hesitation. After all, tea was when backdoor negotiations were made. Tea was where the real Hapan work happened.

And this tea, in the middle of hyperspace in a small city, was no different.

“I am impressed that your handmaidens were able to carry out the deception for so long in your absence,” Tenel Ka said. “That, among many other reasons, is why I have decided that you will not be returning to Madrassa.”

“Where will I be going instead, _Erenedi_?” Allana picked up her teacup. On the side were paintings of the Vovina Lotus, the royal flower that was cultivated exclusively in the gardens of the capitol, Tenel Ka Chume’Dan.

“You will be returning to Per’Agthra with me,” Tenel Ka explained. “This peace conference, I have decided, is the best time to make your official debut.”

Allana nearly choked on her tea. “You can’t be serious?”

Tenel Ka’s stoic expression and ice-like gray eyes reminded her that Tenel Ka was never not serious. 

“The nobles will be on their best behavior with all of the outsiders to be impressed,” Tenel Ka said. “They will not react as poorly to your parentage because they cannot act out— that is a fact.”

“How much are we going to tell them?” Allana asked, slamming down her tea cup.

“Given that you have been gallivanting around the galaxy the past few weeks, openly using your name and your true parentage, it might as well be disclosed.” There was something fiery now, in those gray eyes. “Otherwise, your enemies will find it and will use it against you. Just like your grandmother’s enemies used her parentage against her. And your mother.”

“Did you know?” Allana couldn’t help herself. “That Rey was a Palpatine, I mean?”

“Of course I did.” Tenel Ka set her cup down. “We were— are— friends. I agreed with your father’s objection to the truth. But they never could agree on what that truth was beyond their family names.”

“What do you mean?” Allana asked.

“Your mother chooses to remember her parents as heroes who died to save her, martyrs,” Tenel Ka said. “There is a way Rey has always dealt with her childhood. She makes legends out of it. But Ben knows it was different, he has seen that past in a vision.”

“Dad once said they were alcoholics, Mum’s parents,” Allana murmured.

“They sold her for drinking money.” Tenel Ka confirmed it grimly. “They needed to get off-planet. They did care about her, they did want to protect her. But they also had their problems and faults, and one was their beer, and the other was the bounty on their heads.”

Allana had never felt so sorry for her mother.

“But your mother would be so angry for me to tell it like that,” Tenel Ka said. “And I do not ever wish to make Rey Skywalker angry. It was all done a long time ago and Rey has for the most part moved beyond Jakku and all that happened there. We now need to make sure that you are ready to ascend the throne. I will not live forever, after all.”

Despite Tenel Ka looking as beautiful as she did even in the oldest holos, Allana remembered that she was her father’s age. Her father, who was starting to streak silver in his hair and was starting to show evidence of all the parsecs he’d lived.

“I understand, _Erenedi_.”

Tenel Ka nodded, satisfied that Allana had finally come to see it her way. “We will prepare for your debut to take place during the opening ceremonies.”

“I assume the idea we’re going for is that I will bring a peaceful reign?” Allana asked.

Hapan debuts usually revealed something about the Chume’da. It was a hint of the reign to come. Tenel Ka’s own official debut as the Chume’da involved her performing a dance with her Dathomiri staff and lightsaber— she still had two arms at the time— and had foreseen war, Jedi, and a cultural mingling that other Hapans had found rather distasteful.

There was something almost mischievous in Tenel Ka’s eye as she sipped her own tea. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

* * *

Allana heard the door slide open. She turned to see all of her handmaidens enter, dressed in new gowns now that they had entered the Hapes Cluster once more.

“We missed you!” Vanya hugged her, now more exuberant and herself without the watchful eye of the Queen Mother.

“So much has happened while you were gone,” Vasilisa explained.

“Like what?” Allana let go of Vanya and took Vasilisa’s hands into her own.

“The Hapan nobles discovered you were the heir to the throne.”

Allana looked to Inanna. “How did that happen?”

She and Sansa exchanged a glance.

“We don’t know, but it seemed out of nowhere, they just knew,” Sansa admitted. “Lady Serra told us. She had even been confronted while visiting a dear friend.”

“I take it they don’t like that a foreigner with no Hapan blood at all took the throne?” Allana asked.

“Worse.” Sansa glanced at Inanna and then Vasilisa, as if asking them for courage. “Someone told them that you’re a Jedi now. Is that true?”

Allana drew aside her cloak, revealing the polished saber-staff.

“It is true!” Vanya punched Vasilisa lightly on the shoulder. “You said that was a lie!”

“I thought—“ Vasilisa’s blue eyes revealed confusion. “I thought you didn’t have your Force powers anymore.”

“I got them back.” Allana shrugged, letting the cloak fall back into place. “It’s a long story.”

“We can only imagine,” Inanna said. “I hope you will inform us of your adventures?”

“Once we’re in a secure location,” Allana promised. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

And yet, looking out at Hapes, Allana knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere secure for a long time.


	50. Jedi Princess

The stars were out when Allana awakened to the sound of her handmaidens entering the room.

“Wakey-wakey!” Vanya sang-song as she tried to sit on the Chume’da. “We’ve got work to do!”

Allana used the Fore to gently nudge Vanya off of her. Well, that was the intention. Instead, Vanya fell off of the bed as if she’d been shoved.

Allana sat straight up— she hadn’t meant to hurt her handmaiden. “I am so sorry— Vanya, are you—“

Vanya burst into a fit of giggles as she picked herself up off of the marble floors. “I was wondering if Jedi ever used the Force for fun.”

“Not often,” Allana admitted primly as she got out of bed. “We’re supposed to be above such things— but we are sentients, after all.”

“Yes, well, now that we’re awake and done playing, the Royal Dressmaker has given me our wardrobe for the debut,” Vasilisa said, using a remote to summon a large floating durocrete crate into the room. “Her Majesty and Lady Serra worked with Madam Reine to create it. For the rest of the conference, we’ll be allowed to select our which set we wear, but today—“

“Today’s my debut,” Allana finished. The mention of Tenel Ka working on the wardrobe had surprised her. After all, the Queen Mother had been fairly hands-off in the cultivation of her heir.

Vasilisa hit a button on the remote, and the crate set itself down. The locks clicked open one-by-one in rapid succession, splitting it vertically down the middle, revealing the inside like a geode.

It was like an armoire. The inside of the crate was lined with flimsi with a pattern of vovina blossoms, and the same flimsi wrapped the boxes that held the jewelry, headdresses, and shoes that would accompany the gowns. Said gowns were concealed in black satin garment bags on the right. In Hapan script and letters, each gown was dedicated to a different girl. The other boxes were labelled, as well.

Sansa was the first to remove her gown— that was what she missed most about being in court during their exile on Madrassa, Allana remembered. Inanna examined the script.

“Is that Her Majesty’s handwriting?” Inanna whispered.

Allana knew she had recognized the script. Even though she had never seen Tenel Ka’s handwriting before, she knew it from the very shape of the letters. They somehow carried her very essence.

Vanya snatched the box and gown for her next, and first opened the garment bag.Powder blue silk with a layer of striped indigo blue and teal gauze peeked out. Vanya held it up—there were multiple parts, pinned together for safety and instruction’s sake.

Allana took hers and laid it out on the massive bed. All the gowns were designed to resemble hers, with a few differences.

What they found was that if the handmaidens and the princess wore completely identical outfits, it made it more obvious, the few differences between them. But by having some individualism in their gowns and jewelry, there was a sort of white noise for the eye. No one would really notice them, and their features blended together with the untrained eye.

It seemed that Tenel Ka had been inspired further by the traditions of Naboo. Allana was almost certain she was seeing the reconstructed gowns of Padmé Amidala.

The fabric shared across all three gowns were powder blue savra silk and white lace in the pattern of Queen’s Herb acting as a trim. They also shared the same flaring skirts, square necklines, and capes that looked identical from the back.

Allana’s had embroidery in indigo blue down all of the silk on her bodice and skirt of the fractal star that was the symbol of the Royal House of Hapes. They were on the silk gauntlets she was to wear with the gown, too, she discovered.

A thick band of white fabric with pastel flowers on it looped through a slender silver hoop pinned to her waist, acting as a belt. The fabric had been re-used in other places, like the long vest over Vasilisa’s gown and the stomacher piece to Inanna’s gown and her underskirt.

Allana was grateful she could at least place her saber-staff somewhere easy to grab.

Vanya’s gown was the most distinct from the group, and Sansa’s was most similar to Allana’s. Because of their various roles in the group, it was Sansa who had to be able to switch or pretend to be the Chume’da, and Vanya’s court personality was too bold to not be missed.

The jewelry, Allana discovered, was also coordinated, with silver and diamonds, over any other gems or metals.

“Let’s get to work,” Allana announced, planting her hands on her hips.

* * *

The musicians played the official song of the Chume’da, announcing her arrival as Allana and her handmaidens entered the Throne Room. She and her handmaidens seemed to float, ethereal in their serene beauty.

All eyes were on them— Allana had to focus on keeping her head up, shoulders back, not step on the hem of her gown, keep her hands clasped in front of her placidly.

She ascended the stairs and curtsied in front of Tenel Ka as the music crescendoed. The Queen Mother was reclined in her dragon throne, legs crossed and her eyes bright. She nodded, the proper response to the Chume’da.

Allana rose, and sat in the second throne. It was less ornate, and traditionally belonged to a consort. It had been retrieved from storage, where it had languished since Teneniel Djo had died.

Her handmaidens darted off to the side, where they would stand and wait during the court.

The page who had announced the arrival of the Queen Mother and the Chume’da cleared her throat, and the musicians readied to provide another cue.

“We now welcome the delegation from the New Republic,” the noblewoman said.

In came Finn Tico, accompanied by Jannah Calrissian, Danni Da Dameron, and several other young assistants to various senators and politicians.

Finn bowed in front of the Queen Mother and her heir.

“We thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty, and we thank you for an opportunity to resolve this conflict without violent measures,” Finn said.

Tenel Ka smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Senator Tico. I expect your compassion and courage to guide this conference into a mutually-beneficial solution for all parties.”

Finn nodded back, and led the delegation to the side.

The musicians played their cue again. “The Imperial Remnant of the First Order and Galactic Empire’s Delegation has arrived!”

Allana sucked in a deep breath, ignoring how Tenel Ka’s eyes flicked towards her. Her sister would walk through the doors of the room. Her sister, who had tried to bring that temple down around their ears.

The room seemed to spin, and everything was so cold. Allana thought she might be sick.

The doors burst open. Clad in shades of black, gray, and red, officers followed Brakiss, the head of the Shadow Academy on New Alderaan, into the throne room.

There was a cruel glint in his yellow eyes as he took in Allana.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed to Tenel Ka. “I am surprised to see the rumors of your heir are true.”

“I would not put too much stake in what rumors you have heard, Lord Brakiss,” Tenel Ka said, her words gliding as smoothly as a crystal snake. “Not all sources are credible.”

“Of course.”

Brakiss’s eyes lingered on Allana as he crossed the room to where he was to stand with his delegation.

Tenel Ka was about to start her announcements when a page ran in. Out of breath, he whispered something into the ear of the noblewoman. She gestured to the band to get ready.

“There is another party that has sent their delegation,” the noblewoman announced, somewhat flustered. “The Jedi have sent their delegation with Master Kyle Katarn—“

The doors opened and in swaggered the Jedi, led by a man still in a mix of armor and casual wear. Indeed, all of the Jedi were in such a state.

Allana could barely hide her surprise, especially when her brother and sister entered the room.

_What are you doing here?_

“I hope we haven’t arrived too late, Your Majesty?” Katarn then bowed.

Allana watched as Tenel Ka smiled— a real smile that warmed her eyes. It was subtle— but it made all the difference, for her face was radiant.

“Just in time, Master Katarn.” She nodded gracefully. “I expect the Jedi will make a meaningful contribution towards our peace efforts.”

Allana continued to watch Tenel Ka, confused. She seemed to have expected them.

Tenel Ka subtly shook her head, warning Allana that now was not the time to ask.

Allana blinked. Spots had appeared in her vision— and they weren’t quite going away—

Tenel Ka rose from her throne. “I have invited all of you here today to celebrate a new way forward. We will forge a new journey for the galaxy, and avoid the oft-tread path of war. I welcome you all to enjoy the Castle of Per’Agthra, and the luxuries of Tenel Ka Chume’Dan.”

She paused for a lukewarm round of applause.

“I am also pleased to announce the debut of my heir, She Who Will Come After.”

That was Allana’s cue to stand. She felt quite weak. As she stood, she felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. The world swam before her, colors intensifying and blurring, all sound faraway.

Something was wrong.

Unable to articulate it, she cried out, stumbling forward as the black overtook her vision.

She cried out the name of her brother and sister as she crumpled to the base of the steps in the throne room, and knew nothing more.


	51. The Heritage Council

The roar came first. Her heartbeat started during it, pounding in her head and making her whole body ache. First there was no color, and then all of them, all at once. Everything and nothing, at once. A balance, but so intense that she was being torn and then—

Allana came screaming back to life, her upper body jerked up as if by an unseen string.

Kyp Durron caught her by her forearms.

“Easy, easy,” he muttered. His emerald eyes were dull, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “It’s okay, you’re okay now, working together we got it out—“

Allana blinked, and realized that Jacen, Tahiri, and Nellith were there as well. They were all in various states of dishevelment, dark circles under their eyes.

“You were almost gone, Your Worship,” Kyp said, still managing to tease even when his eyes were grim. “I would’ve hated that comm to your father.”

“I— I almost died?” Allana frowned, reaching a hand to her head. “I don’t remember much, I think I was standing up—“

“You took a tumble down the steps,” Tahiri finished. “You passed out right during your fancy debut.”

“We thought you were dead.” Jacen’s eyes were somewhere far away. “Poisoned.”

“But my food and drink was tested,” Allana protested.

“It wasn’t ingested,” Nellith said. “I found the device after you collapsed. It’s an old technology, placed under thrones or beds— in this case, your throne. It sends out a sort of radiation that—“

“I think I get the picture.” Allana knew she wouldn’t be able to ever sleep again if she knew that at any moment she could be invisibly poisoned. Or at least, how.

She realized she was shaking. “Where am I?”

“An extra sitting room,” Jacen said. “Kyp was the one who thought of it.”

“The medics said you were a goner,” Nellith explained. “Kyp said that he could save you, though. We had to help—“

Allana looked to Kyp. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Kyp said. “I don’t let people die. Not anymore.”

Allana knew factually that her family had not been the only one who had suffered the night it all burned down. But she’d never really seen the others talk about it or show it like Kyp had.

“How long have I been out of it?” Allana asked.

“It’s nearly sunset,” Jacen said. “The opening ceremonies will restart tomorrow. They’re mainly just keeping all of the factions from killing each other.”

“Do they know who did it?” Allana asked.

“Not that we know of,” Jacen said. “But we’ve been here all day, helping you.”

Allana felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“We’d do it again.” Nellith’s voice was firm. “I’m not losing another sibling.”

“Neither am I,” Jacen said. “And Dad doesn’t want to lose another kid.”

The way he said it made Allana suspicious. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s coming to Hapes,” Nellith said. “And he and Tenel Ka will be talking about how to protect you better.”

“I thought he wasn’t coming!” Allana’s pulse quickened. “He shouldn’t be here, we all know that Darth Keera wants to get her hands on him—“

“He doesn’t exactly sit around when his kids are in trouble,” Jacen reminded them.

When he knows they’re in trouble, a bitter part of Allana grumbled internally. But she knew better than to voice it. She had, for the most part, forgiven her father.

But if there was one thing Allana had learned, it was that forgiveness was not as simple as the flick of a switch, and wasn’t necessarily constant. Sometimes it waxed and waned, like the twin moons did in sync with each other above Tatooine.

She was moving forward— but every now and then, she couldn’t help but take a step back.

Before they could continue to speak, however, the door to the open flew open. The others rose to their feet and either bowed or curtsied, as was appropriate for the Hapan Queen.

“Is she alright?” Allana was touched by the concern in Tenel Ka’s voice. It was as disarming her smile to Kyle Katarn.

“I am, Ereneda,” Allana said. “My family saved me.”

“I see.” Tenel Ka’s glance swept across the room. “It seems that I, and the entirety of Hapes, owe you our gratitude and thanks.”

She then curtsied— something that the Queen Mother was never to do.

When she rose from it, though, a part of her stoic mask had returned. “I must ask you, however, to leave the Chume’da and myself in privacy, if you please. We have some private matters to discuss.”

“Right.” Kyp was the first to get up. “I’m glad you’re still around, Your Worship.” He then patted her shoulder before starting to walk out of the room. He then stopped, looking to Nellith. “It’s alright, Nell.”

Nellith still looked back at her sister. They didn’t need words to communicate in that moment. That Nellith was afraid for her sister, that she loved her.

Allana assured her as best as she could without words.

Jacen was the last to pick himself up and off of the floor. It was Tahiri who helped him up. There was a haunted look in his eyes, and Allana could sense the disappointment he held toward himself. That he’d let another sister almost die.

Jaina’s death hadn’t wore on them the same way Anakin’s had, Allana realized numbly. It had come so suddenly, from the cave on Ahch-To. It wasn’t something they had seen, something that they’d had the same time to grieve.

Sometimes, she’d forgotten about the bond that Jacen and Jaina had shared. What was it like? Allana wondered. To be missing a part of yourself that was so invisible to strangers, and yet so integral to who you are?

Because Jacen and Jaina had been that to each other. While they were obviously their own individuals in so many ways, they had the same abilities their parents did. They could see each other across the galaxy, and could communicate without anyone ever knowing.

In some respects, they were each other’s other half.

While Allana had always been close with her own twin, they weren’t that way. Who knew why?

Her thoughts dissipated, however, when the doors to the room closed, leaving her alone with Tenel Ka.

“Today, everything I had feared occurred,” Tenel Ka announced. “I had hoped to protect you from my own enemies. I had hoped that the nobles of Hapes would have accepted my rule as well as that of my mother’s by now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Heritage Council.” For the first time, Allana saw fear in Tenel Ka’s face. The lights in the room seemed to flicker at the very mention of the organization.

“Who are they?” Allana swung her legs down from the chaise as Tenel Ka took a seat on one of the elegant throne-like chairs.

“Nobles who agreed with my grandmother, that my mother was not fit for the throne of Hapes,” Tenel Ka explained. She twisted a simple ring with a brilliant green stone upon it unconsciously as she spoke. “Those who opposed the ‘taint’ of the bloodline of the Royal House of Hapes.”

Tenel Ka looked so vulnerable, so young. “They attacked my mother many times, and attempted to kill me as an infant and later when I ascended. They believed my mother, and later I, were not fit to ascend because we were strong with the Force, because we were outsiders.”

Tenel Ka had studied many different aspects of the Force, Allana remembered. The sorcery of the Dathomiri witches, the path of the New Jedi Order, and the ways of the dark side alongside Kylo Ren.

Tenel Ka looked back to Allana and she was the most vulnerable Allana had ever seen her. “I thought they were gone.” Her voice was near a whisper and halfway to a sob. “I feared that they might come after you, but a part of me believed and prayed that they wouldn’t. I am so sorry. I was wrong.”

Maybe, if Tenel Ka had approached it any other way, or indeed in the political Dragon Queen mask, Allana might have argued or become belligerent. But she didn’t.

“I forgive you.” Allana reached out her hand to the Queen Mother.

Tenel Ka accepted, smiling weakly at the gesture.

“I am sorry that I did not know that they would try to kill you, Allana,” she said. “Your father and I will discuss how to better protect you. I do look forward to seeing Ben again. It has been so long.”

Allana managed to smile.

Tenel Ka then sighed, letting go of Allana’s hand. Allana could see all the lifetimes her mentor and predecessor had lived. So lonely, now, at the end.

Would this be her fate, when she became the Dragon Queen?

Valin’s face flashed in her mind’s eye. She had once hoped, back before he had contracted his psychosis and had escaped the custody of the Jedi, that he might have become her consort eventually.

Now, like everything else, that was unsure, shifting in the face of destiny.


	52. Project Changeling

It was in the dead of night that Allana was escorted back to her room. Her sister insisted on joining the handmaidens in returning her to her chambers without any of the Hapan nobles seeing or any of the Remnant having another shot at her.

How Nellith managed to swing that, Allana had no clue—but she suspected a few uses of some mind-tricks that would get them into big trouble if ever discovered.

Nonetheless, Allana was pleased that her sister was by her side. While night didn’t mean much in Hapan space, due to the bright cluster of stars that made the night barely dimmer than the day, the shadows still seemed to cluster around every doorway. The very lights seemed to flicker as Allana followed her handmaidens back to her chambers.

It was a relief to return to the apartments that belonged to the Chume’da. It overlooked one of the lesser-frequented garden courtyards, and her balcony was nearly invisible to those who passed below, preventing snipers from attempting to kill her in what little leisure time she had.

That hadn’t been a problem on Madrassa. The little moon was comprised mainly of remote villages and large estates that were separated by the beautiful mountains. Even the Chume’doro had been fewer and more relaxed than they were here, in Tenel Ka Chume’Dan.

Allana stood a moment on her balcony, observing the night sky. That was one of the best things about Hapes, she decided. It was so beautiful, for a den of vipers. The idea of the Heritage Council being after her was terrifying.

How had they discovered so much about her? After all, according to what her handmaidens had told her, they knew that she was a Jedi, and rumors had spread from the very beginning that she was Kylo Ren’s daughter.

 _What if they weren’t just Hapan extremists,_ whispered a little voice in Allana’s mind. _What if Thea had something to do with it?_

She had wanted to sleep that night, but that was seeming further and further away with every new development.

Besides, she’d slept enough for the day when she had been poisoned, she decided. No, now she felt alive and was practically vibrating with energy.

Sansa tapped her arm. “We need to talk inside.”

“Alright.”

Allana followed her back into the large sitting room where all of the other handmaidens and Nellith were sitting around.

Vanya and Nellith had taken to sharing one of the love-seats, with Vanya perched somewhat gracefully on the arm of it, while Nellith had taken up the entire seat, kicking her boots onto the other arm. She looked just like a smuggler, without a care in the world.

On the floor, Inanna sat picking at the embroidery on her dress.

Vasilisa stood, arms folded over her chest.

Sansa joined Inanna on the floor, and Allana reluctantly sat down.

“Her Majesty told us what has happened, and she and Jedi Master Skywalker have decided that the only right course of action given the events of today is to to resume the Changeling Protocol,” Vasilisa announced.

“Wait, you mean we’d have one of you pretend to be me again?” Allana demanded. She looked to where Sansa sat next to Inanna. “No, out of the question. I won’t have any of you dying for me.”

“With all due respect, that’s why we did this in the first place,” Vanya reminded her. “You can’t die. You’re all Tenel Ka has, and even that is tenuous at best. You still have to win over the nobles, to some extent. They will try to contest your future reign.”

“And they already have.” Allana’s voice was quiet. “I still don’t like it. I don’t want Sansa taking the risk again.”

“I would gladly do my duty.” Sansa looked up at her with fiery eyes. “You are the Chume’da, you are She Who Comes After. You are our future. Some of our people are short-sighted and stupid enough to reject you because you are not of our blood. But anyone can see it— you will do great things one day. You’re a Skywalker.”

For the first time, Allana flinched at hearing her surname. What did it really mean, to be a Skywalker? All of her life, that question existed, although it never had been voiced. The good and the bad the Skywalkers had wrought on the galaxy followed all of them with every step, every mistake and every victory.

History was watching her and her family. And its eyes were unforgiving.

“Besides, it won’t be Sansa stepping up for duty,” Nellith said quietly.

Still, her voice cut through Allana’s thoughts like her lightsaber.

“What?” Her voice was as cold and flat as the white marble beneath their feet. She tried to reach out, bracing for the impact of news that she realized was horribly true—

“I’m standing in for you,” Nellith explained.

“It would never work.” She dismissed it as quickly as she could— she would not lose another sister, no matter what. “You have blue eyes, and some of your features are different from mine—“

“Makeup solves a lot of those problems,” Vasilisa told her. “Besides, eye color isn’t always easy to tell.”

“And there’s some tricks in the Force, too, that can help.” Nellith bit her lip. “I think I learned how to do it back when. . .”

She trailed off, and Allana knew she was thinking of the three years she couldn’t remember.A reminder of the distance, the wall that had been built between them by their sister and the war.

She wasn’t blameless— she had cut herself off, after all. But she hated it all the same.

“No, you’re just as important as me,” Allana said. “No one is sacrificing themselves for me—“

“That’s the thing, I’m not,” Nellith argued. “I’ve done more to train and fight. I’m a full-fledged Knight. You aren’t, yet. I’ve got a better shot at defending myself from anyone who tries.”

“Dad won’t stand for it,” Allana tried.

“He didn’t like it, but he knows he can’t stop me,” Nellith said. “I’ve made my mind up. For the rest of this conference, I’m going to be the Chume’da, and you’ll be Amelia. And that’s that.”

“It really is the best course of action,” Sansa said earnestly. “And you’ll learn more about your people by pretending to be Amelia.”

“I suppose so.” Allana knew she would not win this fight. But all the same, she wished that there was another way.


	53. The Opening Ceremonies

This was the second attempt. Nellith would never admit it to anyone, especially Allana, but she was nervous. And not just because of the red heels hidden under the hem of her dress were far taller than they had any right to be, or fear of ruining any of the beautiful things on her body, but because her lightsaber was hidden in a thigh sheath of all things, and she was expected to double for her sister.

The combination of the Force and makeup had done wonders. She knew that she would be able to even confuse the Force-users in the room. She after all was Allana’s twin, and the two of them carried themselves similarly in the Force. Perhaps someone intimately familiar with one or both would be able to pick out the difference, but she suspected that Brakiss knew neither all that well.

Even when she was the Empress’s Hand.

Still, despite what she’d said to Allana and how she outwardly acted, she didn’t like taking this risk.

But what else could she do?

She wasn’t going to let Allana die. And despite everything, she knew that in the very end, she was the most disposable of all of the Skywalkers. Her sister was the true Sword of the Jedi, even if she knighted her. When Jacen recovered, he would lead the Jedi Order. Allana would be queen of at least forty systems. Anakin. . . Anakin was supposed to be the best of them. And Thea was supposed to be queen of New Alderaan, a return to the best of the old age.

Where did that leave room for Nellith?

She couldn’t think about that now, not with the first day of the conference about to start.

One of the large conference halls had been set up for these negotiations. There were four long tables established, with plenty of room in the middle for people to stand— or, really, to keep a No-Man’s Land so that the four major parties could not attack each other without being tackled by one of the Chume’doro.

The tables were all facing each other, cloaked in a tablecloth bearing the banner and insignia of the organizations. The New Republic kept the Rebel Alliance’s Phoenix Starbird, the Remnant kept the First Order’s symbol, the Hapans had the dragon insignia of the Royal House, and the Jedi had their ancient symbol.

In some ways, it looked like a battlefield to Nellith.

Instead of sitting with the Jedi, as she would have if everything had gone as it was supposed to the day before, she instead followed her handmaidens to the table where the Hapan nobles sat. Nellith curtsied to Tenel Ka, as she was supposed to, before taking the seat to Tenel Ka’s right.

They sat waiting, rather tediously, as courtiers played music and the rest of the conference filled in. Some were spectators from across the galaxy, who could sit at little round tables on the fringes of the room.

Nellith focused on watching the skylight, which was made of some prism that cast the entire room into a beautiful rainbow.

It was as good of an omen as any, Nellith supposed.

After about an hour and a half of such tedium, Tenel Ka rose and the courtiers stopped, marking the beginning of the negotiations.

“I welcome you all to Hapes,” Tenel Ka began. “Today we are here to do what is most courageous— to try and understand each other, to attempt to have peace in our troubled galaxy. We have made the first step on the path to what is right. May we all find solutions that allow us to continue living in harmony once more.”

With that, she sat down, and Brakiss rose from his chair as the representative of the Remnant.

“We thank the Queen Mother for allowing us so gracefully to come to Tenel Ka Chume’Dan and offering us her hospitality,” Brakiss drawled. His yellow eyes flashed towards the Queen Mother, and Nellith felt uneasy.

 _Steady girl, don’t scare so easy._ She gripped the arms of her chair— it made her feel just a little bit safer, more secure.

“We have very few requests that must be achieved,” Brakiss said. “The first of which is that the Jedi no longer be allied with New Republic military and be subject to the laws of any other third-party entity. We also request free trade between parties, and that all New Republic military be banned from our territory, any trespassing to be punished with death. Our last is that Kylo Ren be turned over to us for execution.”

Tenel Ka didn’t hesitate. There was fire in her gray eyes as she practically leapt out of her chair. “No! We will not delegitimize any parties present today, nor will we ask for executions! We are doing this to prevent lives lost, and not decide which ones will be lost in some abstract sense of greater good— rethink your goals and remember that I am overseeing these negotiations!”

Nellith didn’t have to look to know her sister was surprised. This was apparently more spine than expected by Allana. But somehow, it did not surprise Nellith. She knew that Tenel Ka was also a Dathomiri witch, and that came with its own ideals and power.

Besides, she also noticed how the Queen Mother’s gaze lingered on Ben Solo at the Jedi table.

Just like how Kyp’s eyes lingered on her. She wished that he wouldn’t keep watching her like that, lest someone discover that she was not the Chume’da. But there was no way to communicate that. And she liked that he saw her. Not Allana,.

As the New Republic’s secretary rose, speaking of reparations for the Princess Leia and returning the Republic scientists taken prisoner, Nellith was ashamed to say that she drifted off.

She couldn’t help it— other than Tenel Ka, the Hapans had very little to do. It was as if they were only there for show.

Besides, she could see that this was going nowhere. The Remnant was picking fights with every little detail, going and adding little barbs and jabs with their words, trying to provoke one of the other parties present. Nothing really got done that day.

In fact, the only fact of interest was that Nellith had caught Brakiss staring at Allana in her Amelia disguise. Perhaps it was nothing, just curiosity.

But she could’ve sworn that right after, he looked back at her and smiled. Chillingly, the kind of smile of a predator that had cornered its prey.


	54. Return of the Jedi

Allana knew she would be able to breathe properly again once the day was over and they could all return to the Chume’da’s suite. She had noticed how Brakiss had locked eyes with her during the negotiations, how he tried to probe at her mind and that of her sister’s.

Luckily, they were able to keep their shields up, but that wasn’t enough to make Allana feel calm. Rather, she was even more alert, because that meant that Brakiss suspected something was off.

How he could have known to detect such a thing, Allana had no idea. Yes, decoys had been used by once of their ancestors, Padme Amidala, but Hapes had never employed such tactics.

It was considered unthinkable, once, to attack She Who Comes After. While she wasn’t the living goddess that She Who Has No Equal was, she would ascend someday and usurp that role.

But when the Djos had come from the jungles of Dathomir, everything had changed. One might even suspect that Ta’a Chume herself had a hand in changing the relationship between the nobles of Hapes and their goddesses.

It was only the nobles, Allana knew that much. Inanna came from a lower house than the rest of the handmaidens and had once come from common folk. Thus, she knew better the hearts of the Hapan people than the nobles truly did.

A part of that was because Inanna’s own mother had benefitted from the Djos’ rise to power. Back on Madrassa, with no one really to talk to besides each other and Lady Serra, the girls would talk about their own histories. Allana usually managed to coax more out of them than they were able to for her.

At the time, Allana thought they knew all that they had to.

But Inanna’s mother had gained her opportunity through protecting Queen Teneniel from the original Ducha of her estate.

“Her Majesty the Queen Mother and her mother before her have made the lives of the Hapan people much better,” Inanna had told Allana once. “Better schools for the people, more equality for the men— and the nobles can’t get away with nearly as much.”

As Allana sipped her glass goblet of Hapan gold, she couldn’t help but cynically note that that last achievement was the real reason that the Djos had been so unliked by the nobles.

When she was a little girl, Ben and Rey had spoken of Tenel Ka as having the noblest heart, the most courageous spirit and an incorruptible sense for justice.

Allana had doubted that in her mentor choosing to bargain with the Imperial Remnant. But Tenel Ka had dissolved her gilded mask with her outburst earlier. It impressed her.

But Allana still held her doubts.

The banquet was running as smoothly as it possibly could. Taking place in a ballroom with less access to the outside, it was dimmer than the rainbow-lit conference room they had been in all day.

This was less formal than usual, with plenty of food and drinks scattered about in little tables, and plenty of people were standing around and conversing.

Tenel Ka and Nellith were sitting up on two thrones at the back of the room, confined to observing and not partaking.

That was the job of other,more trusted nobles. In fact, the other handmaidens were doing that on Allana’s behalf right now.

She knew she should probably be trying to make a feel for the room and see what was going on, but she felt fatigued. Despite living in Hapan space for the past three years, it was still a foreign world to her. One where she had to keep her guard up.

Which, granted, was no different from the rest of the galaxy. Tatooine and Ahch-To used to not be that way. But Tatooine now carried its ghosts that Allana couldn’t bear to see.

She glanced around the room, taking in the spectacle in a rare moment of quiet and relative peace. She was by herself, no one pestering her or asking her to do anything. She didn’t have to do anything.Instead, she was just here. That hadn’t happened in such a long time.

Then she blinked. It had to be a figment of her imagination.

He had to be a figment of her imagination.

Disguised in a New Republic military dress uniform was Valin, smiling beguilingly at her. He resembled his father in his years as a member of CorSec.

Allana reached out with her feelings, careful not to alert Brakiss or anyone else to what she was doing— a tricky and delicate task in a room full of Jedi and Sith.

But she managed to reach out just enough to feel Valin’s presence.

That’s when it felt like reality had shattered completely. Or perhaps that was Allana’s goblet.

No one noticed, so she quickly used the Force to levitate the shards into the nearest wastebin. But that was only just the beginning. Her heartbeat was all she could hear, drowning out the music and the conversations around her. Her blood ran like ice through her veins.

As if in a trance, she made her way to Valin.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed.

“My real sister dropped me off.” That’s when she realized his eyes were yellow. “We need your help, you’re the only one who can.”

He took her hand into his. “There’s more of us, who see what’s really happened. You’re the only one who can bring the real ones back, you _have_ to come with me—“

“I can’t.” Allana yanked her hand away. “Valin, I can’t go with you— you do need help, you’re sick, remember?”

His features twisted into an angry, betrayed grimace. “That’s just what _they_ want you to believe.”

Allana looked around, trying to find her father or Tahiri or someone who could help her out. She couldn’t use her lightsaber, or else Brakiss would recognize her, as he had been in the temple on the unknown world Thea had lured them to.

“Who’s they, Valin?” Allana asked. She had to stall for more time.

“The impostors.”

She knew that if she continued to ask questions, the answers would keep running in a circle like this.

Thankfully, she felt Kyp Durron’s presence behind her.

“Hey, lady, is this guy bothering you?” Kyp winked.

Allana resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded.

“Keep out of this, Durron!” Valin snarled. His yellow eyes glowed.

“Afraid I can’t, Yellow Eyes,” Kyp said, drawing his own lightsaber. “Are you going to come quietly, or—“

“Watch out, behind you—“

Allana turned and thrust the palm of her hand into the air just as Jysella Horn approached from behind. The girl froze in mid-motion.

Of course, that was when Valin decided to attack Kyp.

Allana was unable to keep Jysella frozen, and nearly stumbled back into the fight between the boys. Kyp nodded, giving Allana a nudge just out of the range of their sabers and back towards Jysella.

“You have to save my brother!” Jysella’s voice was raspy as she removed her hilt from her belt.

“I’m trying to,” Allana said. “Put the lightsaber away, Jysella, we can talk about this—“

Jysella instead hit the button to activate her blade. But it didn’t emerge. She hit the button, and then the side of the hilt against her hand.

“What?” She faltered a moment. “I don’t understand—“

But Allana did. She had been friends with Jysella, after all, before it had all burned down.

She had a Solari gem in her lightsaber— the blade would only activate for the pure of heart.

Allana figured she had a way around the problem of her distinctive lightsaber.

She grabbed the hilt, but couldn’t quite wrestle it out of Jysella’s grip.

“Let go! You’re listening to _them_!”

Allana struggled, stretching her thumb before managing to hit the button to activate the blade. The bright orange blade sprang from the hilt, and Jysella let go of the hilt in shock.

“How—“

That’s when she and Valin both slumped over, unconscious. Along with half of the Jedi that the delegation had brought.

Allana’s ears were ringing and her head was reeling. She realized as the other half of the Jedi deactivated their lightsabers that there had been other fights. That meant only one thing.

_The psychosis is spreading._

Allana then realized that everyone was looking into the center of the room. She did so to see her father, looking extremely tired, and Tenel Ka, whose eyes were blazing. She still had her blue-green saber ignited as she looked to members of the Chume’doro.

“Please kindly take our unwelcome guests to our holding cells for Force-sensitives,” Tenel Ka declared. She then looked to Ben. “Thank you, old friend.”

Allana didn’t miss how their eyes lingered on each other.

When she turned around, she watched as the Chume’doro took Valin away.

And inside, she grieved for the brave boy who had been lost.


	55. Half-Sick of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and the shorter chapter. Still getting back into it— I had a bit of a burnout with this story. I will finish it, however, that I’m certain about.

After the guests had been returned to their quarters in the name of their own safety, Tenel Ka permitted Allana to remove her disguise as Amelia and to visit Valin in the holding cell.

“The warden reports that he has been asking for you specifically,” Tenel Ka explained. “And that he seems to be in a clearer state of mind than the others. I think it’s important that you talk— for your own peace of mind, if nothing else.”

Allana had found that to be surprisingly kind for the Queen Mother. She had quietly thanked her mentor and hurried down to the level beneath the Fountain Palace where the holding cells were.

Developed in Ni’Korish’s time, these cells were created for the Queen Mother to hunt down and execute Force-sensitives within the borders of the Consortium. When Teneniel Djo married Prince Isolder and took over as the Queen Mother of Hapes, those policies had obviously changed.

But the cells remained, an unspoken contingency plan. Given the events of earlier in the evening, Allana supposed that she should be grateful that Teneniel and Tenel Ka had not chosen to destroy them.

Her skin still crawled when she entered the corridor of cells, however. She could feel it in the force— the echoes of screams and the fading of pain inflicted on those who had been so unlucky to be born in the Hapes Cluster with such a gift.

Captain Espara nodded, and the door to the corridor was closed behind her.

“He’s been asking to see you,” a minor lieutenant offered. “The Horn boy seems different.”

 _The psychosis must have broken its hold on him,_ Allana realized. She tried to keep her face stoic, but she suspected she wasn’t being very successful on that front. “I would like to speak with him.”

“There’s an antechamber to each cell, Your Grace,” Captain Espara explained. “You will be perfectly safe inside, and you will be able to speak with him without endangering the Chume’da.”

“Thank you.” Allana picked up her skirts, and she thought she could have flown with how quickly she crossed the corridor. She was following one of the Chume’doro to Valin’s cell. The door was opened for her, but the Chume’doro remained outside, as a way of granting privacy.

The cells had been renovated, however, since the Djos had come into power. They now had freshers with partitions for privacy, a bed, and a few amusements that could be carefully controlled.

It was one of Teneniel’s reforms, Allana remembered. One that had been instated after Tenel Ka had joined Ben after the fall of Luke’s Academy. She had feared that one day she would have to put her beloved daughter there to save Hapes and the galaxy.

Lucky for everyone, Teneniel had been wrong.

Valin was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, staring at the other wall in an expression that Allana could only describe as contemplation mixed with guilt.

Allana sat on the spindly chair provided in the antechamber, viewing through the glass for a moment, unsure of how to capture his attention. Then she gave him a gentle little nudge in the Force.

He blinked and scrambled to his feet before approaching the transparisteel barrier between them. He stood a foot away from the glass, a remorseful look on his face. And his eyes were hazel.

“Allana, I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I tried to fight it— I keep trying but—“

“I know.” Allana could feel the struggle. “It’s my fault, I delayed and let the psychosis grow more powerful. You shouldn’t be a danger here.”

“Good.” Valin nodded. “There’s something I need to tell you— something I was able to get from him.”

“And what is that?” Allana’s heart rate increased.

“There’s a reason that we all believe you are really you, I think, there’s something undeniable,” he said. “Something special. You have some power over this, or will be the key.”

“Like the imps we found outside of the observatory on Jakku,” Allana realized, putting it together. Then there was the final piece, one that she had carried all her life. “I’m supposed to have some great destiny on a Throne of Balance— what if that wasn’t a metaphor? What if it’s real and aI can control it?”

“Then you need to find it, Allana, as soon as negotiations are over.” Valin nodded, and then placed his hand on the transparisteel. “I’m so sorry all of this happened. I believe you can save us, however— because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Allana answered, placing her hand over his on the transparisteel. “And I will put this right. I promise.”


	56. Missed Steps

Nellith surveyed the ballroom. Under the bright night sky of Hapes, the nine moons aligning along each of the circular skylights crafted into the gilded ceilings, the courtiers of the Remnant and Republic danced, each keeping their distance while maintaining facades of civility. Their negotiations had gone better the day after, although the matter of the Jedi had been forced off of the table by Tenel Ka, much to everyone’s resentment.

Everyone wanted more control of the Jedi, Nellith had sensed that in the rainbow room, and she sensed it now from her throne as she watched the diplomats dance in a manner emblematic of their own diplomacy. They misunderstood the purpose of their order— they belonged to no one and were beholden to no political agenda.They were supposed to be agents of justice and what was right, of the will of the Force.

In the days since the presence of the Jedi had waned, it returned to the ideas prominent when her father was a boy. He’d told her how once, the Jedi had been feared during the rise of the New Republic. How when seeing a boy with strange powers and a lightsaber, they saw the ghost of Darth Vader and not the face of Luke Skywalker. They saw that ghost there, now that the Sith had returned.

And either you were like the Remnant, wanting control of a possible army. Or you were like the Republic, who wanted to restrict the Jedi out of fear of what they could become.

A flare of black skirts in the sea of finery drew Nellith’s eye. She and the handmaidens had coordinated again, in black dresses with roughly matching silhouettes and golden details with white diamonds.

Vanya was the one who had darted past them. As the more obvious and distinctive one of the group, she wore a sleeveless gown with a golden pattern on the blouse that led into a high collar. Her armbands matched the pattern of the blouse, and had ruffled black tulle around the wrists like the layers over the black silk skirt lined with diamonds. She was stunning, and clearly the young Remnant officer agreed, based off of the way he looked at her.

Soon, Nellith spotted Sansa in a gown similar to her, but with more gold details and certainly less diamonds, but similar enough that she could assume her role as the other decoy, if needed with very few noticing the switch.

Jacen and Tahiri were dancing now on the floor, but earlier, Allana had accepted one with Jacen as a brother-sister dance. With her sweetheart neckline and rouched fingerless gloves that stretched up to her elbows, she looked more the princess than Nellith was sure she did.

Nellith wished she and Kyp could dance like Tahiri and Jacen were now, in the ballroom but also in their own little world at the same time, apart from the group dance that required the switching of partners.

But alas, the Chume’da had to wait to be asked.

Nellith impatiently clutched fistfuls of black silk, stuffed with diamonds in designs of the seven—pointed royal star that was the symbol of the Royal House of Hapes. She imagined herself a beautiful dark bird, whirling her skirts around like flapping wings, dazzling all.

Even if it was rightfully Allana that did all of the dazzling.

Still, even if it was under the guise as her sister, a part of Nellith wished she could be flashy and impressive, just for once.

These were not the right thoughts for the mission, she chided herself. They were selfish, impulsive. Born out of envy and pride.

But that didn’t stop her from thinking this way, all the same.

Her wish was granted, however, in the form of Kyp Durron sauntering up to the steps in a bottle green dress outfit, eyes twinkling. He knelt before the Queen Mother and the Chume’da.

“I am but a mere Jedi Knight, but I wish to ask for one dance with the Chume’da.”

He looked up to the humorless Tenel Ka, and for a moment, Nellith anticipated a harsh no, a silent reminder that they could not afford the slip-ups that could come with a boy and a girl who were enchanted with each other, dancing together when she was playing a game and wearing a mask.

Then something in the ice queen’s mask slipped. A memory of the wild girl on Yavin IV, who had kissed a young Ben Solo on a dare.

“Of course, Knight Durron.”

Durron rose and offered his hand as Tenel Ka spoke again.

“That is, if the Chume’da allows it.”

Kyp turned to her. He grinned, and one might have confused it for pure charm and masculinity. But it was his eyes that betrayed his true feelings, as they pleaded in a way only one in love could, for acceptance and to know without doubt once more that they were loved in return.

Without a word, Nellith accepted with a smile and accepting his hand.

She was pulled into the whirling ballroom as she saw Ben approached Tenel Ka out of her peripheral vision. She could sense the words and the answer before it all happened, even as she was pulled away.

“A dance for an old friend?”

“Always.”

And so the queen and the former emperor danced together, joining the fray.

They spun in a circle, only holding one hand to each other’s, the other firmly behind one’s back. It was one of the few dances Nellith knew how to do.

“How are you enjoying your stay in Hapes, young Knight?” Nellith asked, an air mischief about herself.

“I rather enjoy it, the bed is soft and the food as fine as the clothes,” Kyp drawled. “Of course, the company is finer.”

Nellith blushed in spite of herself. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m a bit of a rogue Jedi, in case you haven’t noticed, Your Worship.”

Nellith resisted the unprincesslike urge to roll her eyes.

Then the tune shifted, and everyone was about to switch partners— and Nellith spun away from Kyp into the arms of Brakiss.

“The Chume’da in the flesh.” Brakiss smiled, displaying every oddly sharp tooth as his unnaturally blue eyes flashed yellow. “I had hoped to earn a dance with you, this evening.”

“I am happy to entertain my guests, Lord Brakiss,” Nellith said as they touched palm-to-palm. She had to maintain her composure, she could not show her fear or her anger. Otherwise the mental walls and her glamour would all come crashing down.

She could feel Jacen, Kyp, Allana, Ben, and all of the others watching her, afraid for her.

She had the worst feeling that Brakiss had noticed, too.

“We seem to have all eyes upon us, Your Grace— I think we make a rather excellent pair,” he said.

“You speak presumptuously.” Nellith couldn’t help herself. “You may dance well but that does not make you my equal.”

“I suppose it does not.” The music seemed more intense now, the strings section growing louder above all other instruments. It struck a chord of foreboding in Nellith.

“Neither is a Jedi Knight,” he added, a knowing look in his eye.

“I never said he was.” Nellith struggled to keep her anger behind her mental walls, to maintain the masquerade lest it all come crashing down.

“That is true. Then again, we may be equals once the rest of the fools are absorbed into our Empire,” Brakiss said. “Then you will think differently of saying no to me.”

Nellith arched an eyebrow as her blood went ice-cold. “Is that a threat, Lord Brakiss?”

“No. But this is—“

In a moment, he had drawn his lightsaber and held it against her throat, holding her body against his. Nellith let out a cry of terror as the facade fell away, the glamour in the Force gone completely.

Many gasped as the Chume’da changed appearance completely.

“That was what I thought.” Brakiss turned to address the rest of the room. “The Chume’da is an imposter, a fake planted by the Jedi! This is the Empress’s Hand, her trusted assassin!”

“Not anymore,” Nellith snarled. “I may have forgotten who my sister forced me to be— but I will not let anyone else forget that I am the Sword of the Jedi— and you won’t either!”

Before Brakiss could react, Nellith caused an ignition between herself and Brakiss. She stopped, dropped and rolled as her silks caught flame at the same time of Brakiss’s white robes. She reached for the lightsaber on her thigh and managed to draw it in time to block Brakiss’s stroke.

In the background, something drew her attention, a familiar aura—

 _Valin_ , Nellith realized in terror. _He and the other Jedi must’ve gotten out—_

She then pushed, knocking Brakiss’s blade out of his hand. He turned to summon it back, giving Nellith just enough time to get to her feet in the ripped and charred skirt. She swung her blade, only for it to be blocked just in time by Brakiss’s own returned saber.

The ballroom broke out into a battlefield around her as all factions drew their blasters, firing on one another.

That was when Brakiss stopped, and smiled like a fjarx.

“See you in the hells, Chume’da.”

Before Nellith could attempt to finish him off, the ballroom burst into a world of flame right beneath her feet.


	57. Violent Delights and Violent Ends

Allana sensed it just seconds before it happened— but there was nowhere to run, as the ballroom had become a battlefield. Something bad was about to happen— even worse than the destruction of the treaty they had worked so hard to create.

Before she could shout a warning or anything, something tackled her. She skidded back several feet before hitting her head against the marble. Her vision blurred and black spots danced across it just as someone fell on top of her. His body pressed against her and she struggled to break free.

Then the ballroom was set ablaze. Allana coughed at the smoke, and managed to crawl out from under the now-limp body on top of her. In horror she realized that she recognized him, why the Force hadn’t warned her about him.

“Valin,” she whispered, turning him onto his back. There was shrapnel embedded in his leg, parts of his clothing singed onto his skin, and burns everywhere.

He managed to squint, opening his hazel eyes. He coughed— Allana felt a small prick of relief that it wasn’t blood, that he might be alright.

“You saved me,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

“I saw them, in a dream— they placed the bombs beneath the ballroom,” he explained, before succumbing to another fit of coughing.

“Who did this?” Allana tried to prop him up, but he was heavy.

“Hapans,” he said. “They planted the bombs— Brakiss killed the guards on our cell block—“

“They were working together.” The final pieces were clicking into place for Allana. “You saved me, you fought it, the sickness.”

“Just barely.” Valin managed to shake his head. He slumped back, eyes closing again.

“Valin, Valin, talk to me—“ Allana’s voice rose in desperation as she felt for a pulse. It was still strong, but there would have to be so much done—

Then she looked up. Through the flames, she saw Kyp Durron run to his sister’s body lying on the floor. Her father was sprinting past nobles and officers alike just to put out the flames on her sister’s dress.

At once, Allana was no longer on the ballroom floor, surrounded by flames. She was standing in a desert, as a very different fire claimed her childhood home. She saw Anakin’s body on the ground, looking just like Nellith’s. . .

Allana blinked, and she saw Ben looking at her, his mouth was moving but she couldn’t hear what he was saying over the dull roar of the Force. Her head spun, the painful deja vu disorienting.

Then she felt it, an impression in the Force, pushed along by her father.

Get to Tenel Ka. The image of the Throne Room hit Allana. She gently laid Valin down and removed her saber-staff from her thigh holder. And then she ran.

She ran so fast her skirts could have been mistaken for wings or for the plume trails of a speeder. Nothing else mattered— she had to get to the Queen Mother in time.

She sprinted through the hallways, past fleeing members of all three major parties, pushing civilians out of her way with the Force, like there was a physical bubble surrounding her and repelling all others who dared come into orbit.

She stretched out a hand as she approached the throne room and the doors flung open for her. She nearly stumbled over her skirts as she halted to observe the scene.

Brakiss was standing in between Allana and Tenel Ka. The Queen Mother was standing by the arm of the dragon throne as she fiddled with something in her hand.

“At last, I will finally fight the legendary Kara’Ren,” Brakiss declared, raising his scarlet lightsaber. “We’ll see how weak you have become since your return to the light.”

“You know nothing,” Tenel Ka spat. “Strike me down and all of Hapes will ensure that your master’s empire burns!”

“On the contrary.” Brakiss spun his saber, a warm—up to build momentum. “There are enough nobles willing to foster up a puppet queen, one of the Hapans, and concede to Empire rule rather than be ruled by Allana Skywalker!”

“You poisoned my heir!” Tenel Ka drew her lightsaber, made from the tooth of a rancor that had been a favored pet of her maternal grandmother. The teal blade seemed to spit and hiss with the anger of its wielder.

“I can beat an old witch with only one arm,” Brakiss sneered.

“You won’t.” Allana’s golden saber-staff ignited. “And she isn’t alone.”

Past Brakiss, Allana saw Tenel Ka’s anger give way to pride and approval. Allana smiled, even as Brakiss rushed at her. She spun her saber-staff with enough speed to create a wheel of golden light. Brakiss attacked at it, pushing his blade against one of Allana’s. Sparks spluttered in her face.

It bought Tenel Ka just the time that she needed to strike, or so they thought.

Within a meter, Brakiss became aware of the Queen Mother and one of his hands flew away from his hilt. Indigo lighting emerged from his fingertips, only to be absorbed by Tenel Ka’s teal blade.

Brakiss looked back from Tenel Ka to Allana. She knew that they would win, he couldn’t hold out for long trying to fight both of them like this.

The last of the lightning crackled out, and then Allana was flying in the air. Pain errupted through her body twice, once when she hit the walls, and the second when she crashed onto the marble floor again.

She couldn’t get up— she couldn’t even think how to—

Then she looked up just in time to see Brakiss run his saber through Tenel Ka’s abdomen. He leaned in whispering something that Allana could not hear.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing did, except what she had to do next. She looked to her left, where her saber had clattered to the floor, leaving a few scorch marks in its wake. With a desperate gesture, the saber flung itself into the air, swinging into an arc that Brakiss never saw coming.

The two halves of him fell to the ground as the saber returned into Allana’s hand. She then managed to pick herself up off the ground and run to her mentor’s body.

Tenel Ka was using her thumb and pinky to push a ring with a distinctive green stone off of her finger when Allana dived beside her.

“We’ll get help, we can save you,” Allana promised. “Just hang on—“

“I need you to have this,” Tenel Ka said, ignoring the steam of words coming out of Allana’s mouth. “Take it. It has the codes to the newest fleet of Battle Dragons. My mother’s designs, improved. I had hoped Hapes would never need it— but now is our darkest hour.”

Allana numbly allowed Tenel Ka to place the ring on her finger. “I don’t understand.”

“The Republic will side with you now. I knew the Remnant would be up to something, and those against your reign would make a bargain neither could refuse.” Tenel Ka coughed and laughed. “But they have assured their own doom. The Republic and the people of Hapes see now that the Jedi were right all along.”

“You planned this.”

“I had to, it’s Hapan through and through.” Tenel Ka managed a smile. “You will make a great Queen Mother, Allana. You have my blessing— finish the war your sister started.”

“You can’t die, not here.” Allana looked around— just in time to see Ben and Kyle Katarn, stopped in the doorway.

“Ben.” It was the softest smile Tenel Ka had worn.

Ben ran to her, crouching by her side as Allana had. He took her hand into his. “I’m sorry, old friend.”

“We had a long run, that is a fact.” Tenel Ka’s gray eyes turned more introspective. “And I have always loved you. That is a fact.”

“As have I.” It was a platonic expression, their childhood romance long outgrown. Allana could sense it all as Tenel Ka let down her walls for the last time.

Tenel Ka just smiled and closed her eyes before her body vanished completely. All that was left behind was the crown and jewels and gown.

All earthly things, lost in the embrace of the Force.

Allana didn’t know how long she had sat there, numb. But more of the Chume’doro had arrived, more of thenobles and Jedi and Republic officers were entering the room. The imperials were nowhere to be found.

Captain Espara approached Allana, gently helping her up.

“What—“

“The Queen Mother is dead,” Capatain Espara declared. “Long live the Queen!”

And then everyone in the room bowed to her.


	58. The Dragon Throne

There was much work to be done— but that was for after this moment.

Allana waited in the hidden door alone. She could hear the crowd of Hapan nobles and Republic officers entering the magnificent throne room. She could picture it in her mind’s eye.

The decorations were slapped together by Taryn Zel, the housekeeper of Castle Per’Agthra. Usually the circumstances of an ascension were more anticipated and prepared for. The Queen Mother was ill, or they were fighting a real war, not the half-attempt at one from the shadows that the Republic had tried. Or perhaps the Queen Mother had decided to abdicate. In those circumstances, there were preparations made while the Queen Mother was alive, or there was time after the death to allow for mourning.

But by the next morning, Hapes would declare war on the Imperial Remnant and there was no room for Allana to be doubted or her authority to be undermined by the lack of the technically correct title, even for mourning’s sake.

To mark the gravity of the situation, Allana’s ascending gown was a funeral dress altered rather than a coronation gown in its own right.

Allana preferred it that way. In their history, Hapan coronations were supposed to be moments of triumph and optimism. A new face and new ideas ascending to relative godhood, an ushering in of a new pantheon and a new era.

But they were about to go to a war that had lasted three generations now. It was like the story of the ancient Jedi warrior that Rey had once told Allana as a child. The Jedi warrior had to defeat a mysterious creature of some kind terrorizing some remote mining moon. It could not be killed by decapitation, as it would just sprout a new head, or so the legend went. The Remnant was like that, and like the Jedi warrior, Allana would have to strike at the heart instead.

The death of Tenel Ka had also cast a large shadow over Hapes. She was perhaps their most beloved queen, more so than her mother had. And Allana had realized that she’d held so much resentment towards her mentor for the games she had been forced to play, for what Tenel Ka had to do to secure this reign that had been in jeopardy ever since her birth because of her mother’s blood.

Allana wished she had known her better, had tried to know her better.

But she would always treasure the time that they did have together, as well as the aid Tenel Ka had given her.

She smoothed the folds of the black skirt.

The gown was long-sleeved, with ruffled shoulders and wrists, a slim skirt lined with diamonds in the pattern of the Hapan royal star, and a jewel-like apparatus over the square neckline and bodice to make it look like armor— never mind that when up against a blaster, the jewels were relatively useless.

But Hapes was about images and impressions. And this gown sent an impression that Allana wanted everyone to see. She lifted her head. She was the Jedi Queen, she was a warrior and a leader— just like Princess Leia, like Breha Organa, like Padme Amidala. Like her own mother.

But also like her sister, a part of her mind whispered to her.

After all, the memories of a very different coronation on New Alderaan haunted her. Allana had never imagined that she would understand Thea as well as she did now. Her sister had become so incomprehensible after her shift into Darth Keera. But Allana could see it now, the responsibility, the expectations,and the lingering shadow of the Skywalker curse. Perhaps it was only a matter of time that one of them fell victim to it.

In the course of ten minutes, Allana would have so much power. With it would come great temptations and responsibilities.

How could she ever think she could do this?

Her heart rate rose, drowning out all other sound.

“Breathe. Just breathe.”

Allana felt a light touch on her shoulder. She could smell exotic flowers and the vovina blossoms, the feeling of a cold wind, the excitement of a wild night.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the ghost of Tenel Ka standing next to her, hand on her shoulder.

Tenel Ka smiled encouragingly. She did not need to speak for Allana to understand.

Allana took a deep breath, as Tenel Ka had instructed. Then she walked into the throne room from her hidden door.

The royal march played as Allana kept her eyes trained on her crown. She would wear the very one that Tenel Ka had— golden, with several dragons sculpted from gold and curled around jewels in every shade of the rainbow. There had been some alterations— there always were, for every new queen.

On the straps on Allana’s back, her saber-staff hung in full display, her braid swept over one shoulder to keep out of its way and show all the truth. That the Jedi were here to stay on the throne of Hapes. On a thin golden belt, clipped to her side was Tenel Ka’s own lightsaber.

Allana planned to carry it with her. They would have once buried the lightsabers, as Rey had done with Luke and Leia’s. But in a time of war for the Jedi, their signature weapon was too valuable to be lost to the sands of time.

It was like carrying a little piece of Tenel Ka with her.

She ascended the steps, and looked the royal sage directly in the eyes, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth— as she had been taught. But it was genuine.

There was sorrow— but Hapes would recover, and so would Allana.

As the sage recited the vows that Allana would speak, she glanced around the throne room. There were some Jedi still left to them, free from the effects of the Force psychosis, and the Republic was now their ally.

Sam, Danni, Nellith, Kyp Durron, and her father all stared up at her, smiling.

Allana broke her stoic look to smile back and wave at some small children present in the audience. Then she returned her gaze to the podium as the sage finished.

“I swear to protect and uphold the kingdom of the Hapes Consortium,” she declared, her voice reverberating with the Force. “I will protect her from all who do her harm, from within these borders and without. I will vanquish all who dare to stand against us. This is my vow to my people and my crown.”

She then knelt. The sage placed her crown amidst the center of braids. And just like when Tenel Ka died, everyone bowed. When they rose, the minstrels played andapplause and cheering began.

Allana grinned. There would be work to do, and there would be responsibility and temptation. But she was Tenel Ka’s chosen, and she had earned that. She would do her only master and mentor proud.

Of that, she was certain.


	59. The Last Jedi

_The world was on fire, in a ballroom and in a desert. Yellow eyes stared at her through the fire, but the face they belonged to shifted— so much that Nellith could not recognize any of them—_

Nellith awoke gasping for air, smelling smoke that was not there. It took her several minutes to realize that she was not in fact in the Fountain Palace’s magnificent ballroom, wearing a large black silk dress that was practically a powder keg, or in the desert as her home burned down. No, she was in the rebuilt Praxeum, in her room. She glanced out the window to see the twin moons staring through the window like a pair of eyes.

She sat up, careful not to flip her hammock. There had been the suggestion as more rooms were rebuilt that she might like to move back to a regular bed, but Nellith was not ready for that, not yet. It just felt all wrong. All of this did.

Her sister was a million lightyears away, Queen Mother of the Hapes cluster. Their connection felt as faint as ever. Nellith was beginning to believe that whatever severance had happened during the Purge, it was gone. Possibly forever.

Nellith touched her bare feet to the cool stone floor. It had been a week since her sister’s coronation. The Republic had finally gone to war against the Remnant, and from what Nellith heard, it was going well.

Except that the Star Forge would eventually overwhelm them. But that was a secret the Jedi had decided to keep to themselves in their last council meeting. While Nellith had not risen in rank any further than being a Knight, she had been permitted in the council room. Part of it, she knew was her knowledge about the Star Forge and how she planned to be involved in seizing Centerpoint Station. The other part was how many Jedi had been lost to Force psychosis when Valin had first invaded the conference.

To prevent the spread, Allana had come to an agreement with the Republic that she would place the Jedi in carbonite. Nellith remembered standing there with Kyp that day, the bacta patches on her body still doing their work to heal the many burns that had scarred her body. The Jedi had come out of their psychosis for that moment, naturally.

Most of them, like Valin and Master Clighal were at a sort of peace and understanding. But some, like Jysella, were afraid.

“I don’t want to go.” She had reached out for her father, who gently nudged her back into the carbonite chamber. “Please, don’t make me, I don’t want to go—“

Nellith was ashamed to say that she had turned away, that she couldn’t stand her friend’s fear. She’d buried her face in Kyp’s shoulder, unable to bear it.

Sometimes at night, Nellith could still hear Jysella’s cries in the night. She was sure that if she closed her eyes n9ow, she could hear her friend.

Unable to stand the memories any further, Nellith picked up her lightsaber off of the nightstand. The purple blade was a surge of light, drowning out that cast by the binary moons. Nellith blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust again.

And then she practiced a few swings alone in the dark, matched with a flew flairs and spins— that personal style that Jaina had always told her made the difference between a merely good swordswoman and a great one. Of course, the masters would tell them that a great Jedi would rarely need to use their lightsabers.

Nellith now thought that mantra was full of bantha-poodoo. Not just because their history was full of war, but because of her own experiences.

Jaina’s words came to her.

“Yours is a restless life, and you shall never know peace. . . “

 _If only,_ Nellith couldn’t help but think. _At least I’d then be useful in this war._

She stopped, slightly out-of-breath, and approached the full-length mirror that had been posted against the closet door. She tried to imitate the stance that Jaina often took— it was the signature for Niman, the very one that their father specialized in. The master of all forms.

Of course, there had been some personal touches, as was fitting for the greatest swordswoman of them all.

Because of that, Nellith couldn’t get it quite right. Still, she searched in the eyes of her reflection for any similarities between her and her dead sister.

_Why did you choose me?_

Nellith blinked— she had not realized for how long she had been holding back that question, that lingering fear. Allana had been chosen for everything— the Queen of the Jedi and of Hapes, it seemed. While her other siblings had similar concepts of destiny, she was now realizing that only Anakin had anything close to what her sister was.

Why hadn’t she been chosen to be the Sword of the Jedi in Jaina’s stance, too?

Nellith closed her eyes as she heard a knock at the door, felt a familiar presence.

She opened the door to reveal Kyp standing there, looking worried.

“Are you alright?” He peeked at a chrono on his wrist. “It’s so late— I just could feel it, that you were dreaming about the fire again. . .”

“Yes.” Nellith avoided his eyes. “Sorry.”

In the immediate aftermath of the fire in the ballroom, she had been in and out of consciousness as the black silk went up in flames, as the whole world seemed to. She remembered seeing her father’s face and Kyp’s both over her.

What she found out later was that Kyp was the one to heal her initial condition. Ever since, there had been a sort of bond between them.

Nothing like what the twins had or her parents. But a stronger sensitivity towards each other’s feelings, like the other was the beacon in a spaceport.

“I thought I’d lost you then,” Kyp added, as if he were remembering that moment too. “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about us until the war was over— but that day is coming closer.”

“I know.” Nellith bit her lip. “I think that I’d like for there to be an ‘us.’ To try, at least.”

Kyp smiled faintly. “That’s all I can ask for.”

Nellith tried to hide her own smile. “Maybe we can be space pirates, get our own ship again—“

“Not such a junker, though.” Kyp shuddered. “I know you loved _Serenity_ but it wasn’t made to last.”

“I know that now.” Nellith rolled her eyes playfully. Then she sobered. “I wonder what parts we’ll have to play in what is to come.”

“Given that you’re a Skywalker, I think we’ve got some starring roles.” He winked, giving her the shiny flirtatious grin he was infamous for among the younger Jedi. It had brought her back to a time when her crush on her brother’s friend had been her most severe worry.

How different things were now.

“As long as we fight together, I’m not afraid of what will come,” Nellith declared, taking his hand into hers.

It was foolhardy and reckless—but that was the nature of love, she supposed.

Kyp was perhaps about to lean in for a kiss— if it weren’t for Jacen tapping him off of the shoulder.

“Let’s leave some space for the Force, no?” Jacen looked to Nellith. “We need to talk to Dad, now.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Yeah, it’s the middle of the night,” Kyp complained.

Jacen glanced around, scanning for any potential eavesdroppers before he spoke. “Mum made contact with Dad. She’s transmitted her location— Vader’s Castle on Vjun. She’s ready to be picked up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s finally coming back! You guys have been asking for this since the beginning, and I’m sorry it took so long, but she is alive and finally making it into this story!


	60. Vader’s Castle

Nellith stood at the end of the loading ramp, observing the bright green rain falling from the turbid skies above Vjun.

“Acid rain,” Ben muttered gruffly. “We’re going to want to shield ourselves in the Force, or stick to those who know how to do it. “ He drew the black hood over his face. “The last time I was here, I at least had a helmet.”

“You came here when you were Kylo Ren?” Nellith asked.

“It was a long time ago.” Ben ignited his green lightsaber. “We should get going— I can feel your mother, she’s deep within the castle.”

“I wonder what happened, for her to need us to come and find her,” Jacen murmured as he joined his father and sister.

“I wonder if it has anything to do with that giant wreck over there.” Kyp nodded nonchalantly towards a heap of metal and scrap in the distance.

“Good eye.” Ben shifted into the teaching mode he had assumed when he had first made Kyp his apprenticeall those years ago. “That’s her ship, I can see the markings on the side.”

“The _Jade Shadow_ ,” Nellith murmured. She looked back to her father. “Do you think—“

“There might be Imps here,” Ben agreed grimly, raising his saber with both hands. “This was one of their strongholds after the first war.”

“If not, there’s something equally as bad,” Jacen agreed, looking to be the spitting image of his father with his own green blade.

“Well, that sounds promising.” Nellith closed her eyes, picturing an invisible layer of protection around herself. She imagined the molecules forming together, a small wall repelling the toxins around her. “Let’s get moving.”

With that, she took off from the _Millennium Falcon_ down the rocky landscape. She felt as if she were inches away from an energy field, for her skin buzzed with energy. She felt pure adrenaline running through her veins, her strides growing longer as she leapt from place to place with boundless energy.

It was the Force in its purest form— this was the feeling that reminded her why she was a Jedi, why she could never give up what or who she was.

She darted under the obsidian archways that protected the path from the falling rain. She turned to see the others following suit and the _Millennium Falcon_ taking off in the distance.

Tahiri had agreed to pilot the ship with Chewy, since it was best to keep their getaway vehicle safe and mobile, in case they needed a quicker exit.

Nellith looked back to the end of the arched corridors. Between each arch was a white light panel, and at the very end there was a door with a clunky and outdated control panel at the end.

“It’s still active,” Ben muttered as they approached the control panel. “That means the defenses are still working in the castle. We’ll have to be careful. I guess that the Imperial tech was better than any of us thought.”

He then looked to Jacen. “You’ve got your sister’s multi-tool, don’t you?”

Jacen nodded and pulled out the dented worn model that had been Jaina’s throughout their childhood adventures. She had been gifted with a newer, more updated model when she’d gone off to the Flight Academy.

Jacen knelt down and started fiddling with the electronic locks. “This would’ve been easier if we brought Artoo along, he’s way too good at slicing.”

“Yes, but can you imagine having to escort that tin-can through the acid rain?” Kyp ran his hand through his curls.

“What, like you’d have trouble giving the droid a shield in the Force too?” Nellith teased.

“Fair enough,” Kyp grumbled good-naturedly.

“If you lovebirds are finished, the door is open.” Jacen stood up and dusted off his green flightsuit. He had grown some bulk since being freed from his years-long captivity all those weeks ago. His old clothes no longer drowned him in fabric, although it was still baggier than it used to be.

They’d all changed, and not just physically, Nellith mused. A part of her wondered how much more they would all change before this was over.

It had to be drawing to a close, soon— Nellith had to believe it would. They were about to find Rey, the one person who could end all of this.

They all drew their lightsabers as they entered the dark entry hall of Bast Castle. Nellith could feel the energy of the dark side here. It was one of Vader’s castles— he’d had two major ones, one on Mustafar and one here on Vjun. This one was the one more-used by Imps after the fall of the Empire, however.

Probably because Mustafar’s castle was always under the constant threat of being destroyed via lava.

It had less of Vader’s sorrow, less of his anger here— instead, there was the greed and ambition of the generals scrapping for power that came after the loss of the Force-sensitives in the First Order. The very human element of corruption.

Nothing seemed to be in the entryway, so the party continued into the next room. Light filtered through the large circular window with the spider-like lacing over the top, creating a halo of sorts around the toppled and broken statue of Darth Vader.

“I guess someone didn’t like him,” Kyp joked. He immediately sobered upon seeing the look on Ben’s face.

“Do you know where Mum is, in the castle?” Nellith asked.

Ben closed his eyes, and Nellith could feel him mentally reaching out.

Then his eyes opened. “The library— and she’s not alone.”

He then took off, leaving the three younger Jedi struggling to catch up as he raced up the flights of stairs around the walls before slicing open a door with his lightsaber and running down a hallway.

Nellith had almost made it to the door when she felt it— a warning from the Force.

She turned just in time to see an ancient bipedal droid lumbering at her— she sliced right through the head.

But it didn’t stop the droid. With a loud series of clicks, the blasters that acted as its arms developed an electrical field around them.

Nellith blocked the first arm’s swing and just barely darted out of the way of the blaster bolt, which bounced off of the wall and ricocheted into the debris on the ground floor and set it afire. She then skipped back several paces, swinging her saber to build up momentum.

That’s when Kyp and Jacen had finally realized that Nellith wasn’t right behind them, and were doubling back.

Jacen threw his saber, which Nellith ducked under to avoid the searing blade. The droid blocked the blow with its arm, causing the blade to go sailing back into Jacen’s hand.

Nellith engaged the blade as Kyp used the Force to flip over the droid and land with the perfect opportunity to strike the droid through the back.

Nellith stepped back just as the end of the violet lightsaber ignited through the droid’s chest— inches away from her own.

She could only hear her heartbeat as the droid crumpled to the ground, only a heap of scrap metal at this point.

“You okay?” Kyp clipped his lightsaber back on his belt.

“Never better.” Nellith managed a smile before turning back to Jacen. “We’d better get Mum and Dad, and fast. That was an HK-50 model.”

“Those are ancient,” Jacen murmured. “And they were manufactured at the Star Forge in Revan’s time. Do you think that means—“

“The Remnant has been here.” Nellith nodded, confirming it. “We’d better get going.”

With that, the three Jedi sprinted down the corridor Ben Skywalker had disappeared down.

Then they entered the room where they felt Rey Skywalker’s Force signature.

They stood on a precipice, where the stairs had fallen, possibly years ago, to rubble on the library floor. Ben was staring down at something further— it was Rey, who was collecting as many files as she could.

And there was not one, but two people with her— a young man around Jacen’s age and a girl about Nellith’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, 60/70. Ten chapters left— we’re in for the long haul. I just wanted to thank all my lovely readers— I am so excited for what’s about to come next in these ten chapters. I hope you will enjoy it, too.


	61. The Imperial Library

“Hang on,” Ben called, surveying the situation. “We’re coming Rey!”

“Ben!” Rey shouted up, her features flooded with relief. “Nellith! Jacen! Even Kyp, oh, it’s good to see all of you!”

“Mum.” Nellith’s voice was flooded with emotion.

“We should be able to drop down,” Jacen said, fiddling with a device on his belt.

“Or there’s been something I’ve been dying to try where we help each other fly down,” Kyp said, looking straight at Nellith. “Could be fun—“

‘“Oh, get a room.” Jacen rolled his eyes.

“Like you and Tahiri weren’t equally disgusting,” Nellith teased.

“Can I please not hear this?” Ben grumbled. “Just a second.”

Using the Force, the party jumped from the top of the precipice and were able to carefully control their descent. They landed softly, and when Ben hit the ground, he started running to Rey. She was running to him also, and they met in the middle. He picked her up and swung her around. They were both crying and grinning as they settled into each other’s embrace once more.

Nellith hadn’t realized it, but Kyp had taken her hand. She looked to him and smiled. She knew he was wondering the same thing she was: if maybe they could be like that, someday. Nellith gently squeezed his hand and smiled as if to say, I can only hope.

The two parted,but they still didn’t speak, looking into each other’s eyes. Nellith knew that they were communicating between their bond. After a moment, Rey stood aside, to show the girl and the young man.

“I suppose you were wondering who these are,” Rey admitted. “Kitri? Carian?”

The young man looked away from a datapad and gently placed it inside a black duffel bag. His nervous gray eyes darted from Rey to Ben.

“You must be Ben Skywalker, I remember reading about you at the Academy on Coruscant.” Kitri barely spoke above a mumble, but something about his voice carried nonetheless. “Of course, I didn’t know that you and Kylo Ren were the same. Not until I joined your wife’s crew.”

“Did you now?” Ben looked back to Rey. “Brother and sister, you said—“

“We were looking for the Jedi two years ago.” Carian also had that quiet voice of her brother’s that still managed to dominate all other sounds. “Because of my abilities, the Remnant came looking for us.”

“We don’t need to get into the story now,” Kitri added hastily.He then looked to Nellith and Jacen. “But your sister, she saved us from one of the Shadow Academy recruiters— and she told us she was looking for your mother. We went with her.”

“Jaina?” Jacen’s voice sounded so hollow, so fragile.

Kitri frowned and twisted a ring on his left ring finger. “I’m so sorry. You must be Jacen, I recognize you from the holos. You have your sister’s eyes.”

“Thanks.” Jacen’s tone was bitter. “So you couldn’t save her, then?”

“Jacen!” Rey’s tone was reproachful as she looked at the two young men— this reunion was clearly not going the way she would have liked.

“I couldn’t, although I tried.” Kitri bowed his head. “If there was any other way, I would have saved her. I would have given my life.”

“You don’t know the circumstances of what happened.” Rey sighed, looking far older than Nellith remembered. “But we can talk about this once we’re out of Bast. We’ve been mining the archives here for at least half a year to find information to stop Thea.”

“And?” Ben asked, clearly eager to get away from the drama of interpersonal relationships.

“We can talk about it away from here— the Remnant ships have been coming and going, and they’ve amplified the security systems here.” Rey picked up the black duffel bag. “I’m afraid they may have been waiting for me to call you here, but we needed a way off-planet and I needed to see you again, Ben.”

“So we’ll fight our way out, together again.” In spite of everything, Ben smiled. “That’s the way it’s always been— and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Let me guess, we’re taking them with us?” Jacen nodded at Carian and Kitri.

“I understand that you’re unhappy with me, and I would feel the same way in your shoes, but nonetheless I’d hope that you would still be willing to talk,” Kitri said. “I wish we could have met under very different circumstances— Jaina always spoke so highly of you and I was eager to know her family—“

“Well, we didn’t.” Jacen’s tone was blunt.

“Yes, well, I’d hoped once to be a part of said family, but that changed.” Kitri’s gray eyes grew cold. “Your sister locked the loading ramp to the Jade’s Shadow from the outside, and I tried, I tried to open it but she was always a better slicer and mechanic than I could hope to be— and by the time we opened the door, the assassins from the Shadow Academy were dead and Jaina was dying, and nothing could be done!”

Jacen flinched at Kitri’s sudden anger. He was clearly regarding him with a second impression. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized—“

“Because you didn’t let me speak.” Kitri sighed. “I suppose you should know, even though it doesn’t matter anymore— I’d hoped to marry Jaina, see.”

Nellith gasped. She knew that Jaina had been well-liked by plenty of young men and women at the Flight Academy, but Jaina never seemed to return any such affections—

Even Ben looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “Marry?”

Rey sighed again. “I gave my blessing— they’d planned to do with once Darth Keera was defeated. But it won’t happen now, will it?”

“I suppose not,” Ben murmured. “We should get out of here.”

“I heartily agree!” Kyp clapped. “We should try to reassemble the staircase, no?”

“You need help?” Nellith asked.

“We’ll see.” Kyp reached out with both hands, and the pieces of the staircase that were once demolished were now reassembling themselves, as if the chrono had been turned back to half a standard year prior.

Jacen was the first to brave this staircase. Carian and Kitri were quick to follow. Despite Carian being Nellith’s age, Kitri held her upper arm the entire time, like Carian was a little girl not cognizant of the dangers around her.

Ben offered his hand then to Rey, who accepted and ascended the stairs. Nellith looked to Kyp.

“How are you getting up?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He was clearly straining from the exhaustion. “Just get up the stairs, and don’t look back. I’ll be right behind you.”

Nellith was about to argue, to air her misgivings. But something in Kyp’s green eyes reassured him. He could be heroic on occasion— but he wasn’t a martyr, not like Jaina or Valin.

Nellith nodded and started up the stairs, skipping and leaping with the aid of the Force. Once she made it to the precipice, she turned just in time to see the staircase crumbling back to the ground.

“Kyp!”

He started running and jumped— soaring with the use of the Force—

But Nellith could see that he would miss the platform without help. She ran to the edge, stretching out her hand just as he had the same realization she did.

Just in time, she clasped both hands over his right wrist as he dropped, his momentum pulling her down with him. She slammed against the durocrete floor of the platform, almost letting go from the shock of all of the air leaving her lungs.

But somehow she managed to hold on. Kyp kicked to build momentum and grabbed the ragged edge of the platform. Using all the strength she could summon, Nellith pulled him up and over the edge, falling onto her back— albeit much more gently.

Kyp wheezed an attempt at a laugh. “Maybe that was a bit much.”

“Less heroic plans next time, please,” Nellith requested as she picked herself up off the ground. “We’d better get going— I’ve just got a bad feeling about all of this.”

“So do I,” Ben agreed. He held up his commlink to mouth. “Tahiri, where are you?”

Rey glanced at Nellith and Kyp. “When did this happen?”

“Not too long ago,” Nellith answered, staring at Kyp. “A lot of things have changed.”

“I can see that.” Rey’s voice was quiet. “The last time I saw you— Jaina managed to open some sort of connection— were you being executed?”

“Darth Keera,” Nellith managed to say, as a means of explanation. “I escaped.”

“Clearly.” Rey’s expression was apologetic. “I wish I could have done more to prevent that.”

“No one saw what happened coming,” Nellith said. “We can only keep moving forward.”

“That’s true.” Rey looked back to Ben. “Any news from Tahiri?”

“Enemy fighters are in the area— she recommended using the back courtyard, and she’s fighting her way to us. Seems the imps were watching this place for the last few months.”

“I’ve led us into a trap.” Rey held her face in her hands for a moment. “Alright— we’d better get to the back courtyard, then.”

The entire party ignited sabers— except for Carian and Kitri, who only had blasters— and were greeted with an army of HK-50 models.

The next several minutes were the most intense that Nellith could recall in her life. She danced through the droids with her purple lightsaber, with a precision and intuition that frightened her.

She realized that she must have done this when she was a member of the Hands. She stumbled back, numb, slicing through the last of them.

“Are you alright?” Rey asked, slightly out of breath.

“We’ll talk about it later.” That promise felt like more of a cop out each time one of them said it. But it was the sort of thing that was meant to be discussed in a far calmer environment, as far as Nellith was concerned.

Rey led them down a corridor to where it opened up to the acid rain.

Nellith peered out the viewport just in time to see Tahiri touching down the _Falcon_.

“I’ll take gunning positions,” Kyp volunteered.

“I’ll take the other one,” Carian volunteered. “I’ve got good aim.”

“We’re gonna take you on your word at that,” Ben warned as Jacen knelt down to open the next control panel. “I don’t want any TIEs on our tail.”

The doors slid open just as Nellith heard blaster-fire from down the hall.

“Let’s get out of here!”

Shields raised, the party charged into the rain and down the loading ramp, Rey making sure to be the last person onboard.

Nellith joined the others in the cockpit as Kyp and Carian darted to the gunner turrets. This was going to be a rocky takeoff.

But at least everyone was together again.


	62. Next Steps

The jump to hyperspace brought with it relief. Nellith could smell a faint burning odor, most likely brought on by the one hit that managed to penetrate the shields. Carian had volunteered to help Artoo take care of that, leaving everyone else time to get into the lounge area, many of them sitting around the dejarik table.

“I guess we have a lot to catch up on, so we might as well do it now,” Rey sighed. “There are two vital parts to defeating Darth Keera— and Darth Plagueis’s spirit behind all of it.”

“One is taking Centerpoint Station so we can destroy the Star Forge and cut off the source of power,” Nellith added.

Rey nodded, beaming with pride. “Exactly. And then we need to help Allana fulfill her prophecy. I discovered where the Throne of Balance is.”

“It’s real?” Ben raised his eyebrows. “I thought it was a metaphor.”

Rey shook her head. “It’s somewhere in the World Between Worlds, the same place where I was able to rescue you and bring you back to life.”

“How do we get there?” Jacen folded his arms over his chest.

“I know the way.” Rey’s hazel eyes gleaned. “Luckily, there’s an entrance not far from the old observatory on Jakku.”

“The one that belonged to your grandfather,” Kyp added.

Rey blinked. “You know about that, then?”

“I had to tell them, when we were looking for you,” Ben explained.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected to hold on to that secret for nearly as long as I did.” Rey shook her head. “I apologize. We will need to contact Allana— if she can take the Throne of Balance, she will be able to shift the tide of the war in unimaginable ways before we make our claim on Centerpoint Station.”

“So we’re going back to Jakku, then?” Kyp asked.

“Unfortunately,” Ben grumbled.

“Allana may even be able to use whatever power she gains from the throne to awaken the Jedi and cure the Force psychosis,” Rey added. “That could add to our numbers for the final battle. We want to destroy the Star Forge to cut off the Remnant’s supply— after that, we can enter into a mission to capture Darth Keera and conquer New Alderaan.”

Nellith opened her mouth, about to ask more questions— that’s when she saw it, a fleeting image of herself and Darth Keera in the heart of Centerpoint Station, lightsaber drawn.

Nellith shook her head. “It won’t be dragged out that long. I don’t know all the details— but the final battle of this war will take place on Centerpoint.”

Kyp let out a low whistle. “Then we’ll need all the Jedi we can get.”

Ben stood from the dejarik table. “I’ll comm Allana, maybe Rose too. She might be able to convince Finn to send us some allies to help finish this war.”

“Finn is trained in the ways of the Force,” Rey reminded him. “It might be wise to call on Jannah. Having the Calrissians on our side would make this fight more than fair.”

“Agreed.” Ben smiled. “I missed you so much— we have so much to talk about.”

Rey sobered— and Nellith could sense that she was talking about Anakin and Jaina. “I know. I wish we’d been able to find these answers sooner.”

“I suspect we’ll have plenty of time when this is all over.” Ben sighed. “When the war is over, we can go to Ahch-To and spend some time alone. To recover.”

Rey smiled sadly. “I’d like that.”

Jacen then coughed awkwardly, in the sort of way that implied an interruption.

“Yes, son?” Ben raised an eyebrow. 

“Tahiri and I have been thinking—“ The happy couple exchanged a look before flitting back to Ben and Rey. Tahiri spoke next.

“We’d like to get married after the war is over, Master Skywalker and Master Solo. And visit the estate on Varykino. We were thinking Naboo would be perfect for us.”

Ben and Rey regarded them a moment.

“If you’re going to join the family, Tahiri, you might as well call us Ben and Rey,” Ben said.

Tahiri blinked— Nellith realized tears of joy were forming. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” Rey was looking at Ben as she said it. “Love is something to be encouraged. Especially in times such as war. And we’d be happy to give Varykino’s key to you.”

“It’s a good place to heal.” Ben looked away from Rey; his eyes were on Jacen now. “And I think we’ll all need that, when this is done.”

They all sat in silence for a moment, considering who had been lost in the war already.

Tenel Ka Djo.

Anakin Solo.

Jaina Skywalker.

The crew of the _Princess Leia._

And countless other Jedi who had died that one night.

Of course, such silence did not last— and naturally, Kyp was the one to break it, with a gleam in his emerald eyes.

“Hey, if we’re talking about adding to the family, am I—“

“No,” Ben finished curtly. “You have a few more years before a marriage would receive our blessing, Durron.”

“But perhaps someday,” Rey finished gently.

Kyp then looked to Nellith. “You know, what are you going to do, once the war is over?”

Nellith frowned. “I’m not sure yet. There’s still a lot of fight left in me.”

She knew it was a cop-out, she just didn’t want to think about that yet.

“Kitri and Carian would like to join our order,” Rey suddenly added.

All eyes went to Kitri. He feigned a cough, taking time to formulate his words carefully.

“I went looking for the Jedi because my sister’s powers were developing, and they were becoming difficult to control,” Kitri explained. “I ended up running into Jaina, who was looking for Master Skywalker. We had mutual goals, so I agreed to join the crew of her ship. In the process, I discovered that I had potential of my own that had been untapped. Before this, I was going to be a medic, I was at the Academy on Coruscant for it. But my sister needed me, so I was forced to leave. Since I don’t honk I’ll be able to return to that life, I’d like to become a Jedi.”

“We have a place for you,” Ben promised. “We don’t turn people away, no matter their past or their indiscretions.”

“And we’ll be proud to have both of you as Jedi Knights someday,” Rey added. She then stood up. “I suppose you have comms to make, Ben, and I have to check the navicomputer.”

Her eyes surveyed the room sadly. Nellith imagined that she was thinking of the family trips they had once taken in the _Falcon_ , to Ahch-To and Chandrila. Of the three members lost to them now.

Then everyone dispersed, leaving only Kyp and Nellith at the dejarik table.

“So, are you on for a friendly match?” Nellith asked.

Kyp grinned. “You’re on.


	63. Chapter 63

Allana had not expected to set foot on Jakku again so soon. The sun was setting over the desert and the wastelands, turning the dulled durosteel of the _Hellhound Two_ brilliant shades of violet and orange. The transmission had come in during the middle of the night on Hapes, but she answered it all the same.

This was it— this was the place where her destiny would finally be fulfilled, the prophecies she had dreamed of ever since she was small, the promises the galaxy had for her. It would all end here.

The _Evenstar_ , her Battle Dragon, was parked only a few meters away from the _Millennium Falcon_. How strange it had been, to be separate from her family when they had completed the mission to retrieve her mother.

But because of her promises to Tenel Ka and the duty she had assumed when she became the Chume’da and now the Queen Mother, she was unable to go. The throne could get lonely in how it chained and entrapped the one who sat in it.

 _Maybe I can save him_ , she thought to herself as she remembered the one who she had traveled with to this forsaken place only a standard month before. _Maybe I can bring him back with me, to Hapes._

In truth, Allana was unsure if Valin would accept such an offer, to stay with her on Hapes if he was suddenly able to do so, and openly. Hapes still had a long way to go in how it viewed the Jedi during the reign of Ni’Korish and her predecessors. The Heritage Council had been evidence of that, even if their threats had receded when they had publicly been linked to the Imperial Remnant and the spilling of Hapan blood upon Allana’s ascension.

Besides, Valin was like his father in many ways. Not just the color of his hair or the shape of his nose, or even the Horn signature fighting style with a lightsaber. He was that stoic, quiet man of action, like Corran Horn was, and his namesake before him.

For all that one could forget that internal restlessness with his calm demeanor and strategic mind, it was still there, beating in his heart like a drum. No, his blood would always be screaming at him to go and save the galaxy. Not even out of a love adventure, like for Jysella and her mother, but out of a sense of duty.

It was the weary life of a good man and a great Jedi. One that he deserved to have after all of this, if he wanted it.

Hapes was a life of great luxury and politics— the kind of life that encouraged corruption and decadence. Things that she knew Valin would stand against. Could she really constrain him to such things, for her own sake and comfort?

She shook her head, tossing her dark braids over her shoulders. She’d adopted the hairstyle of Tenel Ka for her one last adventure, a physical reminder of what she aspired to be. Besides, it looked great. She broke herself from her reverie— what questions she considered, she would have to wait for Valin to return, to be removed from carbonite. She would ask him then and find out what he truly wanted.

From the _Hellhound Two_ emerged the rest of her family.There was her father, Jacen, Tahiri, and Nellith. Kyp and Rey had joined the fray— and with them, a young man that Allana did not recognize.

 _This must be Kitri,_ Allana thought, remembering her twin’s transmission to recap everything that had happened on the trip to Vjun without her.

It was strange to think that Jaina had such a rich life in those years without going to find her sister. She had spent time with this young man and his little sister, teaching both the ways of the Force and promising them that they would be Jedi someday, when they were all able to be together again.

Then again, Jaina and Kitri had succeeded where Allana herself had failed in finding Rey.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Jealousy, after all, was unbecoming of a Jedi. And she wasn’t about to fail the trials before her and fall to the dark side now. They couldn’t afford it now.

But it would have been a lie to not admit that she didn’t know quite what to make of this new pseudo-family member.

“You finally made it,” Kyp said, grin on his face as always. “Nice to see Your Worship could get time off for this. Sounds like we’re about to have one more great adventure.”

“Isn’t that a bit optimistic?” Allana asked.

Nellith shook her head, a distant look in her blue eyes. “I’ve seen it. We’re in the endgame— it’s all coming to a close. What we do here will turn the tide.”

Allana blinked— she was not used to Nellith being the one so in-tune with the Force and its warnings. For that matter, neither was Nellith— she could sense that.

“I’ve only been to the nexus once before,” Rey declared. “It’ll be a dangerous journey— lurking down in the valley are steelpeckers and old Imps— although maybe they’ll have all died by now. ..”

“They have,” Allana said in a small voice. “Sort of. It’s a long story.”

“Aren’t they always,” Ben sighed. “We’re going to have so much to do when this is all over.”

“At least it will all be over soon.” Rey patted her husband’s shoulder. “My point still stands. I never wanted to brave the wastelands at night—- we’re both literally and metaphorically in the dark here.”

“I’m not very eager to face steelpeckers,” Kitri admitted as he loaded his blaster rifle. “I’ve seen what they can do to the body, the amount of cyborg parts required—-“

Ben glared at his poor pseudo-son-in-law. “Thank you for that image.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir,” Kitri stammered.

How had Jaina, firebrand, tough-as-nails Jaina, ever gotten engaged to a wimpy guy like that?

Allana shook her head again— love was a mystery, even in the face of the Force.

* * *

They had set forth through the night desert for at least an hour when the obsidian structure of the old observatory loomed in front of them, a reminder of Allana’s own failure here.

This was the place where Valin had lost his mind, against his will. How Allana had nostalgia for that day, before it all went horribly wrong. How they had been playful, flirty even— and how free she had been. With her renewed connection to the Force, her brand new lightsaber, and relative freedom from the responsibilities of the throne she had adopted, she had felt invincible in that moment, untouchable.

But this would also be the place where they would begin to put things right.

That seemed to be what Jakku was known for, after all. Jakku was where Palpatine’s legacy had finally become a force for good in the form of his granddaughter. Where an event of mass extinction that killed an entire planet still left a heart of light in the form of the nexus they now sought. Where Poe Dameron found the Resistance’s last hope in Luke Skywalker.

“We’ll be walking around this place,” Rey declared as she stared up at what remained of her grandfather’s legacy. “I’ve only been in that place once, and I never intend to enter again, especially after nightfall.”

Allana shuddered at the thought. Still, she squared her shoulders and held her head high as she strode around the building. She would meet her destiny head on, unafraid.

* * *

The nexus appeared in a beam of light, illuminating the entire desert surrounding it. Allana held an arm over her forehead to try and dilute the brightness as her eyes adjusted.

Still, Rey kept walking, and the Skywalkers followed.

The light blinded them all for a second before their vision reset. For they were no longer within their reality as they knew it, but someplace that was determinedly elsewhere.

Rey looked up and around at the place. “We made it. Welcome to the World Between Worlds.”

Allana looked around at the strange sight around them. It was pure blackness, with white stars all around them— but the stars were moving, drifting, like dust motes in the wind. They were all standing on a white beam of light that stretched before them and all around them, like a path that went upside down and in all directions.

But beyond that, Allana saw the structure she had dreamed of ever since she could remember.

The Throne of Balance.

As if in one of those dreams, Allana began her walk forward, each step deliberate and meaningful, made heavy with the realization of the ultimate responsibility she was assuming.

Still, she sat gingerly in the Throne of Balance— and everything changed.

What she saw was the Force in its purest form, pure colors and sensations and stars, all blended together into the version of reality those who were blind and Force-sensitive could see.

It was beyond anything Allana had ever experienced, completely indescribable. And yet it was so familiar, and felt completely right.

That was when she understood— she would only sit on the throne once as the Jedi Queen. When she left this place, she would never find the throne or be permitted by the greater workings of the Force to use its power again.

She had to make this count.

“Leave me,” she ordered her family in a voice that shook the stars. “I can help you here— you’ll just have to come back to me.”

And then she realized something, something that could work to peel back all of the sorrow and grief she had experienced all these years. She was definitely stretching her purpose for most-likely selfish reasons, but it didn’t matter. These two lives, the Force would let return to the world of the living just for the two brightest stars that had been snuffed out.

For in the World Between Worlds, two of Ben and Rey’s children had returned to them. Unconscious, frozen from the years that they had died— but alive now, and ready to resume life as they had once known it.

Allana smiled at what she had been able to do. Then, with what felt like a flick of her finger, she was able to free the minds of the Jedi from their imprisonments— bot in their minds and in their bodies.

Yes, she could get used to this power.

She shook her head once more— a reminder of that she had a head, a body. A name.

Allana Skywalker was not a goddess and she would not lose herself to such delusions.


	64. New Jedi Order

Nellith’s head was reeling as they entered the desert night once again. She was numb and silent as they all walked through the desert like the undead in Sith legends. She had lost her sister to the ancient and powerful throne, even if it was onlytemporary. And she had gained another sister and her little brother again.

She was no longer the youngest left alive.

She was no longer the Sword of the Jedi.

Not one person spoke or looked at each other as they left the wastelands of Jakku behind them and entered the _Millennium Falcon_. Despite the urgency of the situation, the adrenaline of the impending battle with the Imperial Remnant over Centerpoint Station, there was still that disbelief of what exactly happened in the desert.

That is, until they entered hyperspace. That was when Ben and Rey swiveled their chairs and finally looked at their two children who had been brought back from the dead.

“Mum, Dad,” Anakin said, as if he too were unable to believe it. “I—“

Rey threw herself forward and hugged her child. He was still eleven years old, as he had been when he’d died at his eldest sister’s hands.

Still, now he was alive and there and—

Jaina smiled at Jacen sheepishly, the emotion finally coming to her face, too, as if she’d only just remembered that she was alive.

“Guess it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Jacen admitted.

“And you’ve changed.” Jaina’s smile turned sad.

“So did you,” Jacen pointed out.

“I guess so.” Jaina still managed to smile as she swept away emerging tears. “I can’t believe— I’m alive again and—“

She whirled around to see Kitri learning against the wall of the cockpit, looking remarkably like Threepio.

“Kitri!” She embraced him, but he was as rigid as a board, hesitant to touch her as if she were a ghost, ready to dissipate completely.

Nellith had to admit that she knew the feeling. None of this felt real to her, any sensations on top of that—

She was disassociating, she realized numbly. Not even her body felt like her own in this moment, because something that seemed so permanent, so final as death had suddenly and irrevocably changed.

She had grieved, she had fought to overcome that survivor’s guilt she had when she first left that cryogenic box a little over a month ago.

But now the reasons for all of it were completely undone, vanished and erased as if they had never happened at all.

Of course Nellith would be grateful for her sister’s divine gift to all of them, but. . .

“Is it really you?” Kitri whispered. “I always dreamed—“

“I’m real.” Jaina’s hands framed his face. “I’m here.”

Nellith looked away as they kissed, her eyes meeting with Kyp’s.

“Fresher,” she mumbled as she stumbled out of the cockpit.

She made her way to the turret, where she could just watch all of the stars streak past while everyone reunited with Jaina and Anakin once again.

She had to regain her sense of reality, the connection between her mind and body. Of course the best place to do it was perhaps the most disorienting location on the ship.

It wasn’t long before she felt Kyp’s presence beside her.

“Mind if I join you?”

“It’s kind of tight in here.” Still, she turned her chair so she could talk to him.

“I can’t even imagine. . .” His dark green eyes were filled with pity. “If Zethes or Vima or my parents were to suddenly come back like that—“

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, just. . .”

“Of course.” Kyp took her hands into his. “I understand.”

“I think it’s just that everything happened so fast,” Nellith said. “That we had to leave Allana, too— and that we’re about to end this war. I can feel it, can’t you?”

“It’s all got that life-or-death feeling, yeah,” Kyp agreed. “We’re going to make it through, though, and that’s where I’ve been thinking lately.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine a ‘next,’” Nellith admitted. “I’ve only been in this for a month, from what I can remember even if I’ve been involved all this time, but I still feel like it’s always been my world, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kyp agreed. “I sometimes forget there was a time before the Purge and before Thea betrayed us and the war. But I have to believe there’s a time after. That’s what keeps me from the dark side.”

“I just don’t want to repeat my family’s mistakes,” Nellith confessed. “I don’t want to fail, like I did on New Alderaan when I got captured.”

“You won’t because you won’t be alone,” Kyp assured her.

They then heard footsteps, and Kyp looked up.

“Speaking of alone, someone wants to talk to you.” With that, he climbed up and out of the turrets, and Jaina descended in.

With a cocky grin on her face, she dropped in, now vivid, full of life and light.

“Hey sis, I guess it’s been a while,” she said. “Last time I saw you, well. . . “

Nellith immediately unclipped her lightsaber from her belt. “I guess this should go back to you, now. You’ll need it for the final battle. Thanks for lending it to me, though.”

“It’s no problem.” Jaina accepted it.

“You should also have your title back,” Nellith added.

“No.”

Nellith blinked, and Jaina threw her head back laughing, like she did when she dared Nellith to drink Corellian firewhiskey.

“I think it suits you better,” Jaina admitted. “Besides, it looks like you’ll be calling me Master soon enough.”

Nellith tilted her head in curiosity.

“Jacen was telling me about his plans to retire at Varykino,” Jaina explained. “He’d always intended to lead the Jedi when Mum was done. Not after, well. . .”

“Has he told you, or—“

“I can just feel it.” Jaina shrugged. “And I would sometimes visit him as a ghost, in the darkest moments. But I’m not done yet, being a Jedi.”

“Plus, it probably doesn’t hurt that your fiancé’s about to be a Jedi,” Nellith teased.

“It doesn’t.” Jaina chuckled. “But yeah, keep the title. I have a feeling you’ll be a better Sword than I was. It’s weird, being alive, then dead, and now alive again.”

Nellith shook her head. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” Nellith asked. “If anything, I should thank you, you saved my life—“

“For what you’ll do.” Jaina’s voice dropped. “I’ve seen bits and pieces— advantages to being a ghost, I guess. You’ve got a big choice ahead of you. I know you’ll do what’s right, though.”

“Can’t give me a hint as to what it is?”

Jaina laughed again— sadder, this time. “I don’t even remember anymore— just that it was important, and it will take place in the heart of Centerpoint Station.”

Nellith was silent as she looked past the blue whirlwind of hyperspace, in anticipation of what was to come.

* * *

Tatooine was busy as ships from Hapes set down on the spaceport around the _Milennium Falcon_.

Kyle Katarn approached, trailed by none other than Sam Tico and Valin Horn.

“Whatever you did on Jakku, it’s changed things,” Kyle said as he approached Rey. “The psychosis is gone, and they’re out of carbonate and—“

“Allana’s taking care of things on that front,” Ben said. “We’ll have to go and get her after.”

“I see.” Kyle stroked his beard. “Well, that’ll disappoint this one.”

He’d nodded toward Valin.

“What happened?” There was a panicked look on his face.

“Allana’s in the World Between Worlds, using her power to help us,” Rey explained. “There’s a lot to the Force we don’t teach because it is so extraordinary and rare. And this is one of those things. But we can explain it to you when we go back to get her.”

Valin looked as if he were about to protest, and so Rey spoke again.

“I would never leave my family behind,” she almost-snarled. “Believe me, we will be going back for her.”

Valin nodded. “Then I’m ready to fight this fight for her.”

“Good.” Rey then looked over to where Sam stood. “Sam Tico, it’s all too good to see you.”

“I want to be a Jedi,” he said quickly. “I know there isn’t much time, but I think I can help in the final battle, and I want to learn the ways of the Force once this has ended. You promised me that.”

“I did.” Rey then looked to Nellith. “But I don’t believe that I’m the one to teach you.”

“Me?” Nellith squeaked. “I’m barely a Jedi—“

“You’re the Sword of the Jedi,” Jaina interrupted. “And you’re going to be the best of all of us.”

“And it doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Rey added. “Sam, of course you can join. Nellith has to make a lightsaber herself, anyway. You can follow her.”

“Right.” Nellith forced a smile on her face. “Come on, we’d best get moving. War waits for no one.”


	65. Invincible

A fleet of Imperial ships surrounded Centerpoint Station in a blockade formation. The station was not far from the one Corellian moon that could not sustain life on its own, but that didn’t explain how it was so visible.

“It has a cloaking device on it,” Ben explained, as if he’d read Nellith’s mind. “Ancient. It would be impossible to find without the Force.”

Nellith swallowed, looking at the challenge looming ahead of them through the viewport of the _Millennium Falcon_. “How did Darth Keera control it, then? Isn’t it programmed to you?”

“It is— but it might allow for individuals with similar resonances in the Force or related DNA to access its interface the same as whomever has bonded to it, or the bond has expired.” Ben shrugged. “It’s difficult to tell with ancient Builder technology like this.”

“Kriff,” Nellith murmured as she absorbed the situation, clutching the two new lightsabers’ hilts.

“Watch your language,” Ben chided. But he too looked worried about the challenge ahead of them.

The other ships from Hapes, the Republic, and Tatooine all leapt out of hyperspace in sync, ready to follow the Falcon into battle.

“Kyp, Sam, get to the turrets,” Ben ordered. “We’re going to need all the firepower we can get.”

“Everyone else, I hope you fastened your safety harnesses properly,” Rey said as she flipped some switches to activate the newly-repaired shields on the old ship. “It’s about to get rough.”

Little did Nellith understand how much she was about to fuilfill that promise.

Nellith considered herself a pretty good pilot, and a decent fighter in something like the _Falcon_. But what happened next was perhaps the most disorienting ride that Nellith could ever recall.

In a blur of color and swerving maneuvers, Nellith felt deeply sick to her stomach as they weaved through the blockade, taking out TIEs and smaller interceptor-style ships in the process.

Explosions reverberated through the ship as Sam and Kyp fired with deadly accuracy, the red and orange of the flames cutting through the bright green of the laser bolts flying from all sides.

“Come on,” Jaina said, unbuckling her seatbelt as they approached the docking bay of Centerpoint Station. “We’re going to have to hit the ground running.”

Grateful to follow her sister’s lead, Nellith, Valin, Kitri, Jacen, and Tahiri followed Jaina and descended the loading ramp as soon as they hit the ground.

Tahiri used her blaster as everyone ignited their lightsabers to shoot down the droids and stormtroopers that came in as the first wave.

Other Jedi ships managed to land around them— players like Tionne, the rest of the Horns, Katarn, and Zekk filled the docking bay as more troops and Sith came at them.

“Go on without us,” Jaina ordered Nellith as they stood back-to-back. “We’ll keep the rest of them distracted here. You find Keera and stop her from taking the station!”

Nellith nodded— everyone else would be needed here, even her parents.

She would have to fight this battle on her own.

But she’d seen that coming, she’d felt it in her gut. That was what she had felt when she had first attempted to face off against Darth Keera on New Alderaan.

Yes, then she had been confused and angry and had not been thinking like a Jedi.

But not she was. She was stronger, and finally understood that she could not do this for simple revenge. This was no petty act— it was a gesture that could save the entire galaxy for another generation at least.

This was how it was supposed to be done.

Without hesitation, Nellith called upon the Force to run and then leap over the battle, soaring like a mynock before flipping and landing perfectly on her feet, just in time to ignite her magenta and emerald sabers, slicing through the defenses of two Sith that had been waiting for her at the end of the hangar.

Once their bodies hit the floor, Nellith went running off again, into the large circular corridor that rotated at relatively high speeds. It was part of the station’s defenses, as normally it did not rotate at all, allowing access into the heart of Centerpoint Station.

The turrets were also going off at full fire. She charged through, redirecting blaster bolts back at the automated turrets as she leapt up and into the correct door to the antechamber of the central room.

Much to her surprise, there was nothing waiting there for Nellith but the aura of darkness that surrounded her sister.

Without a doubt, Nellith knew that Darth Keera was alone in the heart of Centerpoint, and she had fallen far— perhaps even farther than the last time they had met on the nameless planet at the edge of the known galaxy.

Nellith took a deep breath, gathering her courage and her strength for one last fight, one last war.

Then she entered the heart of Centerpoint.

Standing in front of the terminal where a turquoise blue holocron display showed the plans of the system was none other than Darth Keera.

Just as before, she was as beautiful as she was terrible, this time dressed in a scarlet halter dress with wide skirts with several hidden slits hidden by panels of fabric, golden gauntlets, and a diadem woven into her black hair, a single ruby crescent hanging over her forehead.

In comparison, Nellith had ditched the Hapan dresses she had been borrowing in exchange for a green sleeveless top and matching leggings, a leather jacket protecting her arms.

Darth Keera straightened up and turned away from the terminal as Nellith entered the room.

Her eerie golden eyes flicked down Nellith’s form, taking in the changes since the last time they had faced off. 

Indeed, much had changed even since then.

“I see you finally stopped wielding our sister’s lightsaber,” Keera murmured. “And now you are still stuck in the shadows of your siblings. How humiliating. You would have had a higher place if you had stayed with me.”

She drew her saber-staff from her belt, and the two sisters began to circle each other like Lothal wolves fighting for dominance.

“I would have been in your shadow, had Zekk not helped me escape it.” Nellith was determined not to speak in anger, as tempting as it was. No, she would be calm and clear— and as a result, her voice reverberated in the Force. “I stand in no one’s shadow now. I am the Sword of the Jedi.”

“A title you stole from Jaina,” Keera hissed, twirling her blade to wind up momentum. It was like a snake showing its hood and rattling, trying to threaten a being it secretly considered a threat to itself.

“One that Jaina gave to me.” Nellith shook her head. “And it belongs to me, now. I know that Plagueis took root in your mind during your quest, when you found his tomb on Korriban. I know that this isn’t you.”

“I was weak then,” Thea snarled. “Perhaps if you had used that line earlier, when he did not have such a grip on me—“

“I know that, too,” Nellith said sadly. “But if there is any of my sister left, I still want to save her.”

“You’re a fool.” Keera clicked her tongue against her teeth, holding the staff now like she was ready to fight and tired of the chat. “Thea has been long gone. And she will never be free of me.”

“No one is truly gone,” Nellith said simply.

That was what shattered Keera’s composure.

She let out a feral yell as she charged Nellith, sending her blade spinning as she swung. Nellith leapt, flipping over her sister and landing just in time to block with one saber and to use the other to throw around her sister’s head.

Keera ducked and stumbled back as the magenta lightsaber returned to Nellith’s hand. Keera tipped one edge of her blade towards Nellith, forcing her to block it with her crossed blades.

That was when she used the second end of her saber-staff to try and attack Nellith’s legs.

Nellith managed to uncross her sabers and use the second one to block the lower blade.

But she couldn’t hold out for long with the blades locked, sparks flying in her face as the sabers hissed and spat.

Her right hand gave out first, and the top blade of Keera’s saber staff glided lightly over Nellith’s right cheek as she jumped back, leaving a cauterized scar as her emerald saber went flying, hitting its button to turn off as it landed.

Nellith then ducked under another swing of her sister’s, and knelt as she blocked another blow, locking the sabers back again.

It was Keera who yielded this time, and Nellith stood, swinging her saber as she tried to charge her sister, a feral cry on her lips.

Keera lifted a hand, and Nellith went flying into the wall just as she leapt to attack. Nellith hit the wall, her saber falling to the ground beside her.

She tried to grab her saber just to be blasted with Force lightning.

Nellith’s screams rang out through the station as her sister’s lightning intensified, a sadistic grin on her face.

When she stopped, Keera stooped down to lift Nellith’s chin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this day,” she declared, yellow eyes gleaming.

She then stepped back, and just as Nellith tried to reach for her lightsaber once more, she was lifted into the air, an invisible fist around her throat.

Just as she started to see black spots on her vision, she was slammed into the ground just long enough to breathe. Then she was picked up again, lifted higher and for longer before being dropped just as quickly.

Pain racked Nellith’s entire body— but she knew her sister wasn’t done with her yet.

“Perhaps it’s time one of us suffered the Skywalker curse,” Keera said, drawing nearer with only half of her saber-staff activated, the tip of it searing Nellith’s leg.

In a moment of pure action, she pushed her sister away with the Force— emerald lightning shot out of her hand, forcing Keera to go on the defensive, backing up as Nellith’s lightning stretched farther and farther.

 _Emerald judgement,_ Nellith recalled from one of the older Jedi texts. Plo Koon had discovered this power— it was an act of the light side, of pure justice and not vengeance. It indicated a mastery over petty emotions, a channeling of it in a healthy manner.

This brought Nellith the time to stand and summon her sabers back to her hands. Keera activated both halves of her staff and stalked forward like an angry predator. But Nellith skipped forward to meet her, each leap and bound giving her momentum as she rained twin strikes down on each blade.

That was when Nellith felt a strange shift in the Force— the undoubtable influence of Allana from her cosmic throne.

That was when Darth Keera’s eyes flashed from gold to hazel and her saber deactivated.

And, too late, Nellith had thrust her saber through her sister’s abdomen, unable to stop her momentum.

When she turned them off, Thea sunk to her knees.

“Nellith,” she exhaled. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no.” Nellith didn’t realize she was crying until she was down on her knees, her cheeks wet as she held her dying sister. “I’m sorry, I’ll fix this— Thea— Allana was trying to save you and I ruined it—“

“It’s alright, _no_.” She held Nellith’s wrists away from her. “I was too far gone. They won’t let me come back like Dad could. I’m sorry. You didn’t ruin anything, and I hate everything I did to you, everything Plagueis made me become. . .”

Nellith’s mind still raced upon seeing her sister in her right mind for the first time in nearly four years. Now she understood how her mother forgave her father, why she had stormed to the World Between Worlds to save him.

“I wanted to save you,”Nellith protested in a small childlike voice.

“You already have, grant me this dignity,” Thea said. “Let me save you now. Lift me up to the terminal.”

Nellith did so, her once-terrifying Sith sister as light and limp as a rag doll as she managed to stand with assistance. Keera put her hand on the panel, and then nodded for Nellith to do the same.

After a moment, there was a chime and the sisters took their hands away.

Thea fell to her knees again, her hands immediately going to her fatal stomach wound.

“There, that makes you the new master of all of it,” she said. “I’m sorry that this all happened. Tell Mum and Dad that I’m sorry. And tell Zekk I loved him, that he was right.”

With that, Thea fell forward, eyes closing for the last time in Nellith’s arms.

She held her sister’s corpse for a second.

Then she stood, knowing what she had to do. Her fingertips were numb, her pulse raced as she punched in the coordinates for the Star Forge, the information that REvan had given her, the only memory from her life as her sister’s Hand that she’d ever wanted back.

It was all over in the press of a button.

That was when Nellith finally lost the feeling in her legs, sliding down the side of the terminal onto the slightly-rusted durosteel floor.

She was wounded and bruised and dazed by the time Kyp ran into the heart of Centerpoint.

“Nellith!” He cried, an exuberant grin on his face. “We won!”

His joy faded when Nellith buried her face into her knees. He knelt beside her.

“Nellith?”

“I killed her,” she whispered. “I killed her, just as she turned back to the light, she was a victim just as much as everyone else, as Valin was.”

Kyp shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Allana freed her.” Nellith shook her head. “I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“Maybe she made her feel sympathy,” Kyp said. “Maybe she was finally able to make Keera feel remorse and come back to the light. But that doesn’t make her a victim. She had choices. Valin chose to get help, to put himself out of danger.”

“Maybe.” Nellith finally looked up. “It just all happened so fast, she was hurting me, and then. . .”

He lightly touched the scar on her cheek. “You don’t have to forgive her. You never have to.”

“But I’m a Jedi.”

“You’re also human,” he assured her. “And you did the right thing.”

“I only hope so,” she said, looking sadly at what remained of her oldest sister.

“We won the war because of you,” he said, some of the exuberant joy returning. “You’re a hero. They’ll be talking about the Sword of the Jedi for years to come.”

She looked back at him, and seeing his joy was almost infectious. “You think so?”

“I know it.” He winked— signature of the Kyp Durron who had flirted with every girl in the Jedi Academy around his age, one of her older sister’s friends.

And now was someone she loved, someone she realized she wanted to spend the rest of her life fighting beside even if the war was done.

With that, an impulsivity came over Nellith, and she kissed him— a gesture that carried the echoes of a barren valley in Exegol.


	66. The Jedi Queen

Smoke drifted into the night sky— it was as clear as it was four years ago— another night on Tatooine when the desert was afire.

This was not the same, however, as the night when Allana had lost everything. There was no panic, no fear, no running around trying to escape, to find those she loved and help them flee with her.

Instead of holding her little brother in her arms as he died, she stood at a distance holding the hand of the man she loved. Said little brother stood closer to the fire, with the rest of the family she had once feared had been lost in that fire. She wasn’t clad in an old nightgown, but rather formal mourning wear amongst the Jedi, her finest clothes beneath a rich brown robe with the hood drawn all the way up.

But like on the night of the Purge, Allana had lost a sibling, and there was great sorrow in the Force. But it was not the same kind of sorrow that they held then, for innocents and good men who had been slaughtered by traitors and an evil that refused to die.

This was for the potential of a young woman who had lost her way, only to regain it in the very bitter end.

Allana couldn’t help but wonder if she had been there, and not Nellith, if she could have turned Thea back to the side of he light, if she could have saved her oldest sister.

A part of her knew better than to blame Nellith for Thea’s death— she had to make her choices, alone in the heart of Centerpoint Station. But the part of her that continued to love her sister in spite of all the atrocities she had committed would nag at her for the rest of time, what if, what if?

But just because she held that conviction in her heart didn’t make it true, and Allana had to admit that she was less familiar with what their sister became than Nellith was.

Maybe it was for the better, that Nellith had been there, able to do what Allana never could.

The twin moons moved further in their trajectory as the flames began to dim. The silence felt less necessary— so whispers and low voices began to fill the night air.

“It’s a tragedy, what happened to New Alderaan,” Valin finally said. “When they finally regained their royal heir, they ended up becoming involved with their great monsters.”

“They’re moving more towards a democracy now,” Allana explained. “At least, a democratic monarchy—- and none of us would be willing to step up and take over Thea’s role as the queen. So it may be another generation before the House of Organa is returned to New Alderaan.”

Valin nodded as he stared into the heart of the flames. He seemed to be thinking. Allana thought back to her questions before she had ascended on the Throne of Balance.

“I have to return to Hapes shortly after this,” she confessed. “I have responsibilities now that keep me chained there. I’m afraid I can’t go gallivanting around the galaxy much after this.”

Valin nodded again,not looking at her. Allana bit her lip, irritated at his lack of a response.

“I wish we had more time together,” Allana tried again. “I was meaning— I wished to ask, that is, if you would return with me.”

Valin turned to look at her, hazel eyes wide and startled. “Return with you?”

“It does get rather lonely at Per’Agthra.” Allana attempted a coy expression. “I know you probably want nothing to do with me after all that has happened to you, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but—“

Valin interrupted her with a kiss. It was short and sweet, and they broke away quickly. But it was confirmation of the years to come in an abstract after that was drawing closer to reality and the present.

“I thought you’d say no,” Allana admitted. “I know you’re like your father, you care so much about being a Jedi—“

“I do.” In the firelight, Valin’s face was half shadow, half light. “But I could do with some peace and frivolity, for now at least. And yes, I someday will return to patrolling the galaxy and doing my duty to it. But that doesn’t prevent us from pursuing anything.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Any excuses, like her people or nobles’ preferences rang hollo even to her own mind. She was the Queen Mother and could pursue whomever she wanted.

And this— Valin— was who she wanted.

Soon enough the sun would rise and their family would scatter once again. But it would not be like the past three years.

They would see each other again and communicate frequently. There would be so many joys and tears ahead of them.

The absolute latest they’d see each other again would be Tahiri and Jacen’s wedding. And then Jaina and Kitri’s following it.

Naboo, Ahch-To, Tatooine, Hapes— they might be all across the galaxy, but their hearts were united in a desert between two twin suns and twin moons.

* * *

It was a few days later when Nellith stood on the high cliffside at the peak of the Jedi Temple on Ahch-To, watching the sun for a moment peak through the gray clouds.

Even with all the clouds in the sky, there was a light breeze and a beautiful day promised on the island.

“You could stay here, if you wanted.”

Nellith turned to see her father standing in the center of the cave. It was here that they had both spoken for the first time after she’d reawakened and the events that night on Tatooine.

“I’m good, but thanks.” She smiled. “I’m too much like you— too much to do.”

“I’m glad.” Ben nodded. “Purpose suits you.”

Nellith had to agree.

“I’m glad the Falcon is going with you,” Ben said. “It has many more adventures left in her.”

“I hope so.” Ben and Nellith then hugged as Anakin and Rey came through.

“You’ll come back to visit us, won’t you?” Anakin’s hazel eyes were wide and anxious.

“Of course, and maybe sometimes I’ll bring you something.” Nellith promised.

“Stay safe out there,” Rey said as she hugged her daughter.

“I will.” Nellith pulled away. “I love you all.”

She then turned to descend the steps and rejoin her crew— formerly of Serenity and now of the Millennium Falcon.

But she was only three steps out the door when her mother stopped her.

“Nellith?”

She turned around. “Yes?”

Rey smiled serenely. “May the Force be with you.”

Nellith nodded, silently returning the sentiment.

Her crew was waiting for her, starting with Sam, who was waiting outside of the loading ramp.

“We’re ready to go,” he declared.

“Great,” Nellith said.

She and Sam headed inside, closing the ramp behind them. They entered the cockpit to see Tash Arranda, Jysella Horn, and Kyp Durron waiting for her, Kyp in the coveted co-pilot’s seat.

In some ways, the _Falcon_ seemed empty without all of the people they had just dropped off. They’d decided that Ben and Rey and Anakin would return to their rendezvous point, the site of all vacations in the Skywalker family to take some time and heal from what had happened. Especially poor Anakin, who had not yet come to grips with being dead for such a long period of time.

Jacen and Tahiri they had dropped off before at Varykino, and they would return soon enough for the wedding.

Nellith remembered that shattered look in her brother’s face, when they first had met him on New Alderaan after he had been captured by Darth Keera. The man that they left on Naboo looked completely different.

It would be good that everyone who needed it could get some peace.

Of course, that option had been extended to her and her crew as well.

But if there was one thing Nellith now understood, it was that because she didn’t have some great role or destiny, the war had not burned her out like it had the rest of her family.

She was so much like Jaina, fighting and blazing and burning till the last moment.

A life without peace, a restless life, no longer sounded like a curse— it was a blessing. That was peace for her, in and of itself.

“So, where to next?” Nellith asked as she took the captain’s chair.

“We picked up on a signal from Neelgaimon,” Kyp said. “Sounds like there’s trouble with pirates.”

“Nothing we can’t handle, captain,” Jysella said with a grin. “I’ve been ready for a fight for a while now.”

She twirled the hilt of the saber in her hand. She had redeemed herself in the kyber crystal, and it ignited for her now again.

“Can’t be as bad as Korriban,” Tash shrugged.

“Let’s get moving then,” Nellith declared as she started the liftoff sequence.

And so the _Falcon_ flew off, into the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support of The Children of the Stars. I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I did.


End file.
